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FREDERICK CLEVELAND 



The Story of His Life, Suffering and 
Patient Service 



BY 

, WJ 



Q^uJuuyr)^ [)r^v#W) (&~~eik~X 



The righteous hath hope in his death. — Prov. 14: 32 



J> 



ALBANY, N. Y. 



PRESS OF BRANDOW PRINTING CO. 
1899 



C7W 



ST 5-+-. 



DEDICATORY 

To the dear children so tenderly beloved 
and so earnestly and constantly prayed for, 

I DEDICATE 
this story of their Father s loving, devoted, 
% patient life, in the earnest hope that through 
this faithful record they may be led to fol- 
low him as he followed Christ. 

G. V. V. C. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Illustrations . . . . . . 1 1 

Preface . . . . . . 13 

Chapter I 

Ancestry . . . . . . 17 

Chapter II 

Boyhood and Early Youth . . .27 

Chapter III 

Academy and College Days . . 39 

Chapter IV 

Life on the Frontier . . . -54 

Chapter V 

On the Plains of Kansas ... 60 

Chapter VI 

Amid the Bayous of Louisiana . . 69 

Chapter VII 

The Next Five Years . . . 85 

Chapter VIII 

The Ups and Downs of Chicago Life . 100 

Chapter IX 

Peoria . . . . . . 108 

Chapter X 

A Home in the East . . . .122 

Chapter XI 

Mother in Heaven . . . . 131 



PAGE 



10 Contents 

Chapter XII 

The Life in Christ . . . .139 

Chapter XIII 

Active Service— Sunday School Work . 148 

Chapter XIV 

Active Service — Hymnology . . 153 

Chapter XV 

Active Service — Ruling Elder . . 166 

Chapter XVI 

The Story of Two Little Lives . . 171 

Chapter XVII 

At the Sanitarium . . . . 182 

Chapter XVIII 

The Next Ten Years . . . .192 

Chapter XIX 

Over the Rockies .... 202 

Chapter XX 

At Northfield 218 

Chapter XXI 

1896 ...... 226 

Chapter XXII 

The Last Year . . . . .232 

Chapter XXIII 

Forever with the Lord . . . 240 

Chapter XXIV 

In Memoriam ..... 248 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Frederick Cleveland — Steel plate 


Frontispiece 


Ancestors of Frederick Cleveland . 


opp. page 17 


The Boy ..... 


27 


The Freligh Homestead and the Birth- 




place .... 


33 


The Student .... 


39 


Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Cleveland, 1863 


8 5 


Patterson Cottage; Home in Waukegan; 




Greyledge .... 


119 


The Grandchildren . . . 


197 


The Family Group .... 


226 



PREFACE 

By Rev. Wm. H. Walker 

I am asked to write a few lines, by way of preface to 
a book in memory of my dear friend and brother in 
Christ, Mr. Frederick Cleveland, to be written by his 
beloved wife. I respond with great readiness and 
deepest feeling, esteeming it a great privilege to have 
known him, and to contribute a word to his beloved 
memory and great worth. 

I write of him as a Christian brother and valued 
friend, having known him from the inner circle of 
closest and constant intimacy for the past fifteen 
years. During the years of his protracted illness it 
has been my privilege to spend much time with him, 
and I have thus known more of his inner life and 
experience than others of his friends who had not so 
much time to devote to him. 

*My first acquaintance with Mr. Cleveland was 
shortly after he had lost two lovely children, to whom 
he was very much attached, and whose loss he felt 
very keenly. It was then the subject of the Second 
Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ began to be a sub- 
ject of interest to him, and the thought that He 
might come back again any moment, and bring with 
Him the loved ones for whom he sorrowed, afforded 
to both the grief stricken parents much comfort. 



1 4 Preface 

During the latter years of his life he almost ceased 
to speak of death but was occupied with the Coming 
and its consequent glories ; and he delighted to be at 
conventions and gatherings where this truth was a 
prominent subject of discussion. 

It was delightful to notice as one year succeeded 
another, a gradual ripening in him into all the will of 
God. During the first year of his sickness there 
seemed to be a desire for the life of intense business 
activity, from which he had been removed and to 
make more money for his family and to use for God; 
gradually he seemed to be weaned from this desire 
into something like a submission to the will of God, 
and subsequently into a sweet acquiescence which 
desired nothing but that the will of God should be 
fully done. This resulted in a sweet and blessed 
calm which nothing could disturb, and an abandon- 
ment of all his interests to God in the trustful spirit 
of a little child without a murmur or a care. 

During his sickness he was often impressed with 
a sense of God's goodness in sparing him so long, 
especially when he heard of the death of some friend 
or acquaintance. During his illness he witnessed the 
removal by death of three physicians who attended 
him, and five elders who had served with him in the 
Fourth Presbyterian Church, as well as his most 
esteemed pastor and spiritual father, the Rev. Dr. 
Henry Darling. At last the fruit was fully ripened 
and carefully garnered to be kept until that day when 



preface 1 5 

"The Lord, Himself, in command with the voice of 
the Archangel, and with a signal from God, will 
descend from heaven, and first the dead in Christ 
will rise again — then we, the living remnant, shall at 
the same time be carried up in clouds for an intro- 
duction by the Lord into the eternal condition and then 
we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore console 
one another with these words." — I Thess. 4:16-18. 

Some of the things in the life and character of Mr. 
Cleveland which impressed me were: 

First, his sterling Christian character. He was a 
man of deep conviction, had a keen sense of righteous- 
ness and justice. 

Secondly, his concentration and definiteness of pur- 
pose. Whatever he took in hand he carried out until 
ultimate and highest success was realized, whether it 
was a business enterprise or the preparation of a 
Sunday School lesson. 

Thirdly, simple, childlike faith. Once satisfy him 
that God had spoken and all controversy was ended. 
The word of God was the authoritative guide of his 
life, and he believed it all from Genesis to Revelation. 

Fourthly, large and helpful sympathy. There was 
no narrow bigotry in him but always a helping hand 
for any good work. 

Fifthly, thoughtfulness for others. This feature 
was most marked in the most minute details of a 
visit, a journey or a meal. 

Now that he has gone from our midst let us think 



1 6 preface 

of him as he now is, and not as he once was, and as 
he will be on that fair morn when we shall be like 
Him, when we shall see Him as he is. 

Fallen Asleep. 

Past all pain forever, 

Done with sickness now, 
Rest and health and gladness, 

These thy portion now. 

Eyes that shall never weep, 

Life's tears all shed, 

Its farewells said — 
These shall be thine. 

A brow without a shade, 

Each wrinkle smoothed, 

Each throbbing soothed — 
That shall be thine. 

A tongue that stammers not 

In tuneful praise 

Through endless days — 
That shall be thine. 

A voice that trembles not, 

All quivering past, 

Death's sigh the last — 
That shall be thine. 

Limbs that shall never tire, 

Nor ask to rest, 

In service blest — 
These shall be thine. 

A frame that cannot ache, 

Earth's labors done, 

Life's battle won — 
That now is thine. — Bonar. 



And now we simply say " Good night" 
Until the breaking of the morning light. 




Mrs, Anna Whitbeck Freligh Dr. Michael Freligh 

Mrs. Gertrude Freligh Cleveland Mr. Newcomb Cleveland 



Chapter I 



ANCESTRY 

With joy the parent loves to trace 
Resemblance in his children's face; 
And, as he forms their docile youth 
To walk the steady paths of truth, 
Observes them shooting into men, 
And lives in them life o'er again. 

— Lloyd. 



Frederick Cleveland was born March 20, 1838, 
in the old farm house in New Haven, a little country- 
town not far from the city of Middlebury, in the 
state of Vermont. He came of English stock on his 
father's side. The ancient seat Cleveland was in 
North Riding, Yorkshire, England, and his earliest 
ancestry dates back to Thorkil de Cleveland, of 
Cleveland, 1066. 

The family derived the name from the district of 
Cleveland, in Yorkshire. Early in the thirteenth 
century Sir Guy Cleveland was present at the siege 
of Boulogne, in France, afterwards at the battle of 
Poictiers, when he commanded the spearsmen. 
Frederick Cleveland's grandfather, in the fourth 
degree, was Moses Cleveland, who came to America 
from Ipswich, Suffolk county, England, and settled 
in Woburn, Middlesex county, Mass., A. D. 1635. 
2 



1 8 JVUmoirs of 

On his mother's side, he came from a sterling old 
Holland Dutch stock, and his ancestry in that line 
goes back to Peter Freligh, who came from Holland 
and settled in Ulster county, N. Y. His great grand- 
son, Michael Freligh, grandfather to Frederick Cleve- 
land, was one of the oldest physicians of Albany 
county, N. Y. At the early age of eighteen years 
he received the authority entitling him to the dignity 
of doctor, and soon after he began the practice of 
medicine in the city of Schenectady. Five years 
afterward he removed to the town of Watervliet, 
N. Y., where he won a large practice. His natural 
abilities were far more than ordinary. He was bright 
and genial; a true gentleman of the old school. He 
was a firm advocate of the cause of temperance, and 
wrote and lectured for its advancement at a time 
when the customs of the day were not very favorable 
to its success. 

In 1799 Michael Freligh married Anna Whitbeck, 
of Watervliet. She was the daughter of Garret 
Whitbeck, and her ancestry dates back to Jan Thomas 
von Whitbeck, who was born at Whitbeck, in Hol- 
stein. From 1652 to 1678 "he was the most 
considerable dealer in house lots in the village of 
Beverwick." In 1664, ln company with Volkert Janse 
Douw, he bought of the natives the whole of Apjes 
island or Schodack, and the main land opposite, on 
the east side of the Hudson river. He was married 
to Geertruy Andriese, of New Amsterdam, by whom 



frederfcfc Cleveland 19 

he had seven children, six sons and one daughter, 
Catharine, who became the wife first of Jacob San- 
derse Glenn, and in 1696, of Jonas Volckertse Douw. 
Thomas Janse, son of Jan Thomas Whitbeck, married 
Jannetje Van Deusen on September 5, 1702. He 
was buried at Papsknee, May 6, 1 73 1. They had 
six children, and Lucas, the youngest, was grand- 
father in the third degree to Frederick Cleveland on 
the maternal side. Lucas married Geertruy Lansing, 
by whom he had seven children, and their son Gerret 
married Emitje Perry, May 29, 1774. They had 
three children, two sons and one daughter, Annetje, 
who became the wife of Dr. Michael Freligh. 

A pleasing little incident is told in regard to the 
courtship of this couple which seems worthy of men- 
tion. One day as the young doctor was returning 
from one of his professional calls he had occasion to 
pass over the broad acres of the Whitbeck estate on 
the south side of the Mohawk Flats. Miss Whitbeck 
spying him at a distance as he leisurely rode his horse 
over the country road, secreted herself in a thicket 
by the roadside, and as he drew near sprang up with 
the fearlessness of a highwayman, caught the horse 
by the bridle and exclaimed: "Sir, you are my pris- 
oner !" With a courteous smile, the young doctor lifted 
his hat, and bending toward his fair captor replied: 
"Madam, I have been your prisoner for more than 
two years," and then came the story first told in 
Eden, but which has been repeated the centuries past, 



20 JVIemofrs of 

and will be repeated over and over again till time 
shall be no more. 

The Freligh homestead stands on one of the hills 
overlooking the Mohawk river. From its windows 
there is a magnificent view of rolling meadows in the 
foreground, and of the blue hills of Rensselaer county 
over the Hudson river to the east. To the north purls 
the pelucid waters of the Mohawk river, with its 
numerous islands nestling in its bosom; they are cul- 
tivated now to the waters edge, but only a few years 
ago they were thickly wooded. The towering trees 
and flowers and ferns and shrubs are tangled to the 
very waters edge, and the stately featherly elms fes- 
tooned with the trailing wild grape vine are daintily 
mirrored in the waters. Tradition says that on one 
of these islands Captain Kidd hid his famous pot of 
gold, but no one has discovered its place of hiding 
and long ago the search was given up. Here, too, 
hugging closely the bank of the river, runs the Erie 
canal ; its white packets lazily sailing its waters, while 
beyond it, dotted here and there, are the white farm 
houses of Saratoga county, with their numerous red 
barns and out buildings. The Flats, with their broad 
acres of broom corn, lie to the left, and a narrow 
roadway forks off from the main road down the hill 
over the bridge that spans the lily pond, past the old 
mill and over another bridge, crosssing the brook 
underneath the willows till it is lost in the distance 
amid the corn fields to the west. Toward the west 



fredertch Cleveland 21 

lie the orchards belonging to the estate; cherries and 
pears and peaches, beautiful to the eye and luscious 
to the taste, hundreds of apple trees, with their 
golden russets, red Spitzbergens and juicy seek-no- 
farthers temptingly gleaming amid the green boughs. 
Away off in the distance lie the misty Helder-bergs 
like a battlement surrounding the valley, while through 
the orchards to the south arise the Catskill mountains 
in all their mystic beauty. This farm was like a 
watered garden, no place more beautiful in all the 
world, and into the great rambling farm house were 
born to Michael Freligh and Anna Whitbeck, his wife, 
fourteen children, five sons and nine daughters. Dr. 
Freligh was a devout member of the Dutch Reformed 
church, the church of his fathers, and he was for 
many years a ruling elder. Two carriage loads bore 
their numerous family winter and summer to the 
house of God, and two high back pews were always 
filled to overflowing. He was a man of ardent piety; 
seemed to dwell in constant contemplation of the 
goodness and greatness and majesty of God. In a 
letter dated November, 1849, he writes thus: "The 
cross of Christ is my crown, His mercy seat my 
hiding place, His sufferings the ground of my hope 
and rejoicing, His death the price of my life, His 
wounds and bruises my refuge when the storm of 
God's wrath sweeps away the wicked, His love 
my wonder and astonishment, His intercession my 
advocacy with the Father, His righteousness my 



22 JVUmofrs of 

justification, His mediatorial work my all in all for 
life eternal." 

On the 26th of June, 1853, at the age of eighty- 
three, this good man of God passed on to the life 
beyond, and ten years later, December 22, 1863, his 
beloved wife, Anna Whitbeck Freligh,was also gathered 
to her heavenly home. The third child born to these 
people of God was Gertrude Maria, the much beloved 
mother of Frederick Cleveland. Her youth and girl- 
hood were spent at the old homestead. She was very 
sunny in her disposition, loving and affectionate, full 
of humility and hope and faith in her God, never 
doubting His promises nor growing despondent nor 
impatient throughout the changing scenes of a busy 
life. She lived a rare woman and her influence and 
example have been a blessing to her household and 
to all with whom she came in contact. "She openeth 
her mouth with wisdom and her tongue is the law of 
kindness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; 
her husband also, and he praiseth her." — Prov. 31: 
26-28. 

In her early home she met many prominent men 
and women. The doctor kept open house and dis- 
pensed Dutch hospitality with a generous hand, and 
many a time the household numbered from twenty to 
twenty-five. She had not a face that many would call 
beautiful, but there was a sweet, serene expression 
about it that won the hearts of those who looked upon 
her. Once in travelling from New York to Chicago 



frederfcfc Cleveland 23 

a poor old man who sat weeping in a railway station 
where she was waiting came to her and gave her the 
story of his domestic sorrows — a deserted home and 
disobedient children — because he said he knew by 
her face that she was a mother and would sympathize 
with and pity him; and she did. This face of peace, 
this sweet expression she gave to her son Frederick. 
Many times through the last thirteen years of his life 
of patient waiting have friends and strangers alike 
spoken of his face as "the face of an angel ;" others 
had said of him that he had the sweet heavenly 
expression that reminded them of the home beyond, 
and at the Northfield Conference, where he visited 
summer after summer, the family were continually 
assured that his face had been a benediction to every- 
one. One dear friend, Mrs. Agnes Strain, since 
gone to her eternal home, said that his face wore 
more and more the sweet rest and peace of heaven, 
and it seemed to her that he was getting ready to 
look into the face of his Savior. 

Newcomb Cleveland and Gertrude Maria Freligh 
were married in October, 1836. He was born in the 
town of Easton, Washington county, N. Y., 1807. 
Left an orphan at twelve years of age, his sole 
resource was in his enterprise and exertions. He was 
a man of strong character, of great business qualifica- 
tions, methodical in every particular and a strong 
advocate of temperance. He was a born commander 
and his word was law. He was engaged in business 



24 jVIemotrs of 

in New York city for several years but in 1849 he 
went to California, where for four years he was deeply 
interested in mining and mercantile pursuits. Thence 
again in 1853 he removed to the state of Wisconsin, 
where he was occupied in railroad and banking enter- 
prises for more than ten years. At that time, in com- 
pany with several others, he established the Farmers 
and Millers' Bank of Milwaukee, of which he became 
the president. He continued to be the executive 
officer of the bank until he and the original stockhold- 
ers sold their interests. The bank was later on reor- 
ganized under the National Banking Act and, as the 
First National Bank of Milwaukee, is one of the largest 
banks in the state of Wisconsin. In 1865 he removed 
to Tarrytown, on the Hudson river, where he remained 
until his death in 1870. He was converted to God, 
as he believed, under the preaching of Rev. Dr. Whit- 
ing, Presbyterian minister of Salem, Washington 
county, N. Y., and in 1835 he united with the Metho- 
dist church at Weybridge, Vt. He was a stern father, 
rigid in the training of his children, and of him it 
could have been said as was said of Abraham, the 
friend of God, "For I know him that he will command 
his children and his household after him." Whether 
the training of to-day, directly opposite to the train- 
ing of the fathers of fifty or sixty years ago, is an 
improvement we know not, time will tell. There is 
much talk to-day upon this subject; many new methods 
are advocated and much is said against the puritanic 



frederfch Cleveland 25 

discipline of the past, but if the present century sends 
forth as large an army of noble men and women as 
those who have come out from under such training we 
certainly might be convinced of its superiority. The 
three sons of Newcomb Cleveland were men of ster- 
ling integrity and ardent piety, and an honor to the 
name they bore. Newcomb Cleveland was married 
in 1827 to his first wife, Sarah Wheeler. She died 
while on a visit to her brother, Moses Wheeler, at 
New Haven, Vt, leaving four little helpless children, 
the oldest only seven years old. She lies buried 
among her forefathers in the little cemetery on the 
banks of the New Haven river. A tall moss-covered 
marble headstone with weeping willow carved at the 
top bears the following inscription and epitaph: 

Sarah Wheeler 

wife of 

Newcomb Cleveland 

Died Nov. 7th, 1835 

Aged 35 

"Soon shall the great archangel's voice 
Make all that dwell in Christ rejoice; 
May we like her be found prepared, 
To meet our Savior's great reward." 

Gertrude Freligh was the second wife, and at the 
age of thirty-three she bravely took upon herself the 
care and responsibility of her husband's four little 
children. Seventeen months later was born her oldest 



26 JVUmofrs of 

child, the subject of this memoir. He was a very 
large and beautiful child. Years afterward his father 
spoke of his face as being remarkably lovely and 
attracting admiration wherever he went. 

On that early spring morning when that little life 
was ushered into the world it was a question whether 
it would not be life for life. The little twelve pounds 
of humanity gave promise of a strong and healthy 
child, but the young mother's life hung in the balance 
between life and death for weeks. A naturally strong 
and healthy constitution, however, gained the victory, 
but she was never in perfect health thereafter. 

Frederick Cleveland came of noble ancestry. He 
could say, like the Apostle Paul, that he was citizen 
of no mean city, and that he came from no mean 
stock, but the fact of a godly ancestry was more to 
him than all beside. "He counted all as refuse so 
that he might win Christ, and be found in Him." 
And why not thus, all things shall pass away. Our 
fathers fall asleep and our own life is but a ripple on 
the sea of time. This world is furrowed deep with 
graves. 

Beneath those rugged elms that yew tree shade, 
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, 

Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 

— Grey's Elegy. 




THE BOY 






frederfch Cleveland 27 



Chapter II 



BOYHOOD AND EARLY YOUTH 

O'er the trackless past somewhere, 
Lie the lost days of our tropic youth, 
Only regained by faith and prayer, 
Only recalled by prayer and plaint, 
Each lost day has its patron saint. 

— Bre t Harte. 



The pathway of life from the cradle to the grave is 
known of God. The tiny dew drop glittering in the 
morning sunlight is as much his thought as the great 
ocean with its foaming billows stretching far out to 
the horizon — both are hidden in the hollow of His 
hand. And so it is with life; the little babe nestling 
upon its mother's bosom is as much to Him as the 
great strong man battling with the burdens of life. 
Through all the changing, shifting scene He sees the 
end from the beginning, and His hand is ever at work 
in moulding and shaping our destiny. 

In the spring of 1839 tne farm at New Haven was 
sold and the family removed to New York city. It 
was a most beautifully located farm midway between 
the little village of New Haven and the city of Mid- 
dlebury, on the crest of a little knoll called Town 
Hill in the Otter creek valley. It was a picturesque 



28 Jflemotrs of 

spot in the heart of the Green mountain range. The 
farm house faced the east; directly in front of it was 
Buck mountain, Mount Philo and Camels Hump, while 
the forest clad summit of Potato hill, nearly four 
thousand feet above sea level, lay directly opposite 
the house. Shutes in which lumber was carried down 
to the New Haven river furrowed the mountain sides 
and added to its picturesqueness. North-east lay 
North mountain or Hog Back, at the foot of which lay 
the little town of Bristol, six and a half miles from 
New Haven junction — a quaint and picturesque place 
much admired by summer tourists of to-day. To the 
west and directly behind the house across the valley 
lay Grand View or Snake mountain, a land mark ever 
since the French war. It curved down sharply to the 
north and opened out a magnificent view of Mt. Dix, 
Mt. Marcy, White Face and other great giants of 
the Adirondacks. 

The New Haven river finds its source between the 
north and south mountain, purls its way at the foot of 
the range, then crosses the valley and empties into 
Otter creek. This stream quietly singing over the 
rocks and underneath the elms and vines and tangle- 
wood seems like a harmless little brook, but there are 
times when it becomes a mighty mountain torrent 
overspreading its banks and carrying everything before 
it. Just before the birth of Frederick, houses and 
barns were carried away and over thirty persons lost 
their lives, and it is to-day the terror of the farmer 



fvzdzvick Cleveland 29 

along its banks. There is no valley more beautiful 
than the Otter creek valley. The Vermont Central 
railroad winds its way through covered bridges, back 
and forth over the quiet stream, the meadows are 
redolent with the fragrance of the myriads of wild 
flowers and the tall elms dip their vining boughs in 
the limpid waters. What a pity to leave so much of 
God's beautiful handiwork for the city. But New- 
comb Cleveland's business kept him there and he had 
not been able to spend much time with his family on 
the farm. The care of the home and her little flock 
had been too much for his wife and she gladly left all 
to be with her husband in the city. But the change 
from the mountain air to the closer atmosphere of 
New York was not at all beneficial to the little Fred- 
erick. In his second year he became so delicate that 
the physicians advised an immediate removal to the 
country and he was accordingly sent up to his grand- 
father Freligh's. The old doctor was very fond of 
his little grandson and he became a great pet with his 
numerous aunts and uncles. His Aunt Emma, who 
afterward became the wife of William I. Snyder, 
took him under her special charge for over four years. 
This aunt was always dearly beloved by him and she 
was ever a welcome guest in his home. She lived not 
far from him in her comfortable home on the banks 
of the Hudson river with one faithful servant who 
ministered to her, but he frequently visited her, carry- 
ing with him some little memento of his love. Every 



30 jvicmotrs of 

Thanksgiving day he brought to her a dinner of his 
own choosing and it was hard to tell which was the 
happier, the one who gave or the one who received. 

At the Freligh homestead the little delicate boy 
soon began to regain his health, the pinched look left 
his face and the roses came back to his cheek, but he 
was never strong. Dr. Freligh was an ardent lover 
of outdoor life and he delighted in his farm — espec- 
ially in his garden — in which he was very successful, 
spending in it several hours every day even in his 
busiest times, and the little Frederick was with him, 
trudging behind with a pail of milk, of which they 
were both fond, prattling away and asking so many 
questions that the old doctor was filled with wonder 
as he listened to the child. Taking him one day 
upon his knee he said to his wife "this boy has a 
wonderful head, he will either make a great man or a 
great rogue," and the boy answered, "well, grandpa, 
I'll never be a rogue! never!" 

Thus passed the early years of the boy's life; chas- 
ing the butterflies over the clover fields, gathering 
wild flowers in the meadows behind the farm house 
and fishing with crooked pin in the little brook at the 
foot of the hill. Very often his beloved grandfather 
was his companion, but always "Pinkey," grand- 
father's favorite dog, trotted along by his side, a silent 
but devoted admirer. Once, while chasing the bees 
amid the clover blossoms he was severely stung by a 
huge bumble bee, from which he carried the scar until 



f rederfcb Cleveland 3 1 

his death. At another time, after watching the men 
milking the cows in the barnyard, he spied a little 
colt and its mother standing near. Thinking the 
mother might be made to do the same service he 
began the milking process with her, whereupon she 
offered a most forcible objection and he was landed 
somewhere in the ditch, to the dismay of those who 
beheld him. Weeks afterward when his mother made 
him a visit he tearfully told her of this event, and she 
listened with white face and trembling heart as she 
thought of what might have been. 

It was not customary in that day for children to 
dine with parents if there were guests in the house, 
but grandma Freligh's table always had guests, so the 
custom was generally waived in Frederick's favor. 
One day there was an unusual number at dinner and 
Frederick was told he must wait. He tried to con- 
vince his grandmother that it was not the wisest thing 
to do, but she would not be convinced. Among the 
guests was the domine. Now, to the children of that 
day, the domine was looked upon with awe and fear. 
They had to sit solemnly in the high backed pew 
every Sabbath and listen to a long sermon preached 
from a very high desk, so high in every way that each 
sermon went over their little heads and not into their 
little hearts, and then, at a stated period, when the 
domine made his "family 'visitation," they, and every 
member of the family were to be present and answer 
some very hard questions. When Fred knew that 



32 jviemoffs of 

the domine was to dine with them he was resigned to 
"wait" and went out into the kitchen to interview 
Maggie and Pete, two important colored members of 
the Freligh household. The odor of the fricasseed 
chicken and its accompaniments was overpowering 
and he went again to convince his grandmother that 
he ought to dine with them. She was firm. He told 
her everything would be gone and what would he eat. 
She calmly replied "you will have manners. ,, Now, 
it was then considered polite to leave a bit of each 
thing on your plate and unmannerly not to do so. 
These bits were called "manners," and Frederick knew 
well what his grandmother meant. Boat they tarried 
long at the table. Fred's patience was exhausted 
and he went into the house to reconnoitre, cautiously 
opening the dining-room door he climbed on a chair 
and surveyed the contents of the table. Opposite 
the door sat the domine, and Fred felt a chill run up 
his backbone as he looked upon him, but when he 
saw him just about to take the last piece of chicken 
his distress was unbounded and he piped out through 
the chink in the door: " O grandma, grandma, there 
goes all my manners! " 

Happy days of childhood! How soon they are 
gone and how blessed it is that we cannot lift the veil 
and look into the future! The old home was ever 
dear to Frederick Cleveland; he loved the scent of its 
clover fields, the hum of the bees in the apple orchard 
and the ripple of the brook over the stones behind 




The Freligh Homestead 
The Birthplace 



frederfch Cleveland 33 

the house were the sweetest music in all the world to 
him. The old farm house with its peaked roof and 
dormer windows was more beautiful than any palace, 
and the old Dutch door whose upper half always stood 
open was an entrance way into perfect bliss. In after 
years as he rode out with his family he invariably 
chose the road that led by the old home and then he 
gazed upon it longingly and lovingly, recalling some 
little incident that transpired when "I was a little boy 
at grandpa's." 

During the four years spent at his grandfather's he 
had visited his parents several times, but each time 
he pined to return and one of the aunts was sent to 
bring him back. Two other children, George and 
Mary, had come into the home and the mother's 
hands were more than full. She was not a partial 
mother, but there was always a peculiar bond between 
her and her eldest born. They were alike in personal 
appearance, and both had the same loving unselfish 
disposition. 

At last the time drew near when the little boy must 
enter school and he went back to his parents in New 
York city, attending school there until 1849. Nothing 
eventful transpired during these five years of his life 
except that he came near being abducted while play- 
ing in the street with his brother George. The two 
boys were accosted one day by a stranger carrying a 
carpet bag. He urged little Fred, to go with him, 
promising candy and a nice ride in a boat. At first 
3 



34 JVIettiofrs of 

the little fellow seemed inclined to go and the man 
taking him by the hand hurried him away; then the 
child became frightened and tried to get loose, but 
the man held on until the screams of the boy attracted 
a passer by who released him while the man darted 
away in the crowd. He never forgot this event and 
counted it among the many narrow escapes of his life. 
In 1849, when the father sold his business and 
went to California, the mother removed to Schenec- 
tady, to be near her relatives, and Frederick was sent 
to board in the country with his aunt Elizabeth Van 
Vranken, at Niskayuna, Schenectady county, N. Y., 
and put in school in the Rosendale district. O, that 
old red school house, how he loved it! There was 
nothing about it prepossessing. It was always old. 
One long bench with desk in front ranged round the 
room on three sides, and there was a bench in front 
of this desk on which sat the smaller children, their 
little feet unable to reach the floor. The boys sat on 
one side, the girls on the other. On the east side was 
the "stage," on which the boy spoke his "piece," and 
the girl too; there was the black board on which 
many a hard sum was figured up, and there too, was 
the one entrance door which opened into a lean-to called 
the wood house. Behind the door on a bench stood 
the water pail, over which hung a rusty tin dipper, 
and by the side of the pail sat "Jakey," the only 
colored pupil in the township. In the center of the 
room stood a large box stove; it roasted the classes 



frederfcfc Cleveland 35 

that stood reciting beside it and froze the feet of the 
pupils sitting near the windows. The teachers were 
generally students from Union college, who tried to 
meet their college expenses in this way. They usually 
"boarded round ;" they did also the work of janitor 
and generally did good work in every way. Once a 
year the commissioner visited the school. He was not 
an educated man but he always made a long set 
speech on one subject. It was on "Science Hill," the 
importance of reaching it and the difficulties to be 
encountered on the way. It required great patience 
to listen to that speech but all were in awe of the 
speaker and all had received numerous admonitions 
beforehand in which was a hint of consequences in 
case of disobedience. A hill back of the school house, 
very difficult of access, was called "Science Hill" in 
honor of that speech. 

The district school house answered also for Sab- 
bath school purposes from six to eight months in 
the year, and here the children were taught the 
shorter catechism (Heidelberg), to answer questions 
from the Union question book and to commit to 
memory long portions of Scripture. There was also 
a weekly prayer meeting on Sabbath evening at early 
"candle light," and there was about as much of a 
congregation in that little school house as we find in 
some of our city churches on Sabbath evenings to-day. 
Once a month there was a preaching service, usually 
on Thursday evening. The domine gave the announce- 



36 JVIemoirs of 

ment from the village church as follows: " Providence 
permitting there will be Divine service in the Rosen- 
dale school house on Thursday evening at 'early can- 
dle light/ " and long before sunset "from over the 
hills and far away" came the men and women and 
children of the neighborhood, many a housewife 
bringing with her a "tallow dip" of her own making 
for the tin candlesticks hanging beside the windows. 
There was no trouble or talk about how to keep the 
young men in church in that day. They were there 
in full force after a long day's work and perhaps 
walking two or three miles after the young lady with 
whom they were keeping "steady company." The 
house was packed. The windows were open, the can- 
dles flickered and dripped down on the heads of the 
lads and lassies underneath, the bats and bugs were 
very plentiful and the turkey-tail fans did double duty. 
In front of the platform stood the domine; before 
him was the teacher's desk on which stood two can- 
dlesticks with lighted candles, a snuffers, a Bible and 
one of the only two hymn books in the house. To 
the left stood the precentor with tuning fork in hand. 
After he had pitched by his fork he started the hymn 
and all joined in singing two lines at a time and then 
waiting for the domine to give them the other two. 
And so over the hill and through the forest back of 
the house rolled Old Hundred, Mears, China, Lenox, 
and other old tunes never to be forgotten. The ser- 
mon usually lasted a straight hour and was sometimes 



frederfch Cleveland 37 

dry and prosy, but many a soul was won to Christ, 
and many a man and woman will look back to those 
meetings with loving memories. 

Into this neighborhood and into this old red school 
house Frederick Cleveland came one early spring 
morning just after his eleventh birthday, his store 
clothes, his white linen and his polished boots seemed 
quite out of place there and the boy of the neighbor- 
hood was disposed to look upon him rather doubtfully, 
as one who might feel a little "uppish" in his ideas. 
But he never did. He was brimful of fun, rollicked 
and wrestled and fought with the boys and threw side 
glances over at the girls. He gloried in "spelling 
matches" and stood up bravely "toeing the crack" 
while one after the other "spelt down." 

His was not a faultless character. He was quick 
tempered, impulsive and impatent, but soon over it 
and ever ready to ask pardon for wrong doing. He 
was a bright scholar, stood at the head of his classes 
and was therefore a great favorite with his teachers. 
But .why was that old school house so dear to his 
heart? Why did he regard it with so much rever- 
ence and affection? Many times as he passed it in 
his drives through the country with his family he 
pointed it out to his children with these words: "In 
that 'old red school house' many years ago I first met 
your mother and it settled forever one of the most 
important events of my life." 

There is a sweet little love story in the 24th of 



38 JVlemoirs of 

Genesis not unlike the love story of Frederick Cleve- 
land and Gertrude Van Vranken. 

"And Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the 
eventide; and he lifted up his eyes and saw, and 
behold the camels were coming. And Rebekah lifted 
up her eyes and when she saw Isaac she lighted off 
the camel. ,, 

It was not in the field that Frederick was medi- 
tating but in the old red school house — not at even- 
tide but in the morning — and when he lifted up his 
eyes he beheld not the camels coming, but an old 
man on horseback, and perched in front sat his little 
grand-daughter, Gertrude, not yet eight years old. 
And Gertrude lifted up her eyes and when she saw 
Frederick she lighted off — not her camel, but her 
horse — and thus were brought together two lives that 
all the changing scenes of forty-six years could never 
separate. Only one year in the old red school house 
together, but seven years a constant visitor at her 
home and at the home of their aunt. He helped her 
in her lessons, figured up her sums and always stood 
her champion. They played "keep house" together 
under the old pine trees by her father's home. He 
called her his little wife and spoke of the time when 
he would grow up to be a man and claim her as his 

own, and he did. 

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, 

When two that are linked in one heavenly tie, 
With heart never changing, and brow never cold, 
Love on through all ills, and love on till they die. 

— Moore. 




THE STUDENT 



frederfch Cleveland 39 



Chapter III 



ACADEMY AND COLLEGE DAYS 

Academy bells ! Academy bells ! 

Ring out your sweet refrain, 
But ye cannot recall from wood or dell 

The boys and the girls again. 

Ring on sweet bells in your merriest strain, 

Yet there's sadness in each tone; 
Ye cannot ring back to these grim old haunts 

The days and the loved ones gone. 

Long they have fought in the battle of life, 
Some have conquered, but more have lost, 

And some have gone on to the better land 
Weary, and tempest tost. 

Ye beautiful bells ! Ye beautiful bells ! 

Laden with mem'ries afar, 
That can never pass from our heart and our lives 

Till we have "crossed the bar." 

—G. V. V. C. 



After a year or more spent at Niskayuna, N. Y., 
Frederick Cleveland was sent by his parents to the 
academy at Bakersfield, Vt, in March, 185 1, his 
brother Charles having entered in 1848. They 
boarded with Mr. Bisbee, a professor in the academy 
and a relative of the family. Very little can be 
gleaned about his life there, save through a few let- 
ters written by his parents, brothers and sisters. In a 



40 JVIemofrs of 

letter written him in September, 1849, by his brother 
Charles there is much praise of the academy. He 
writes thus after expressing his anxiety for the family 
in New York city, owing to their being exposed to the 
terrible scourge of cholera prevailing then: "I like 
this place very much; the term is swiftly passing 
away and 'examination' will soon be held. It will 
occupy one week. I look forward to it with delight, 
although I dreaded it one year ago. I am to speak 
on the stand but I am not afraid. We are to have 
an 'exhibition' at the close and a levee, which is a 
large party in which all the friends are invited. I 
wish you were here too, Fred, in fact it is just the 
place for you." 

There is a letter written by his mother which reads 
as follows: 

Schenectady, N. Y., 

March 23, 1851. 

My Dear Frederick: 

Your very kind and affectionate letter came safe to 
hand, but I have delayed answering in hope of having 
something interesting to communicate; however, I 
shall delay no longer. 

When we left you at Bakersfield on Tuesday morn- 
ing we took the cars for St. Albans; from there we 
went to Burlington; there we visited our cousin, Mrs. 
Spears, where we found Aunt Sallie Freligh. We 
stayed with them over night, enjoying it very much. 
From thence to New Haven, where Mr. Langdon met 



frederfch Cleveland 41 

us at the depot, and in the afternoon they invited 
quite a party of neighbors at their house. I enjoyed 
it very much and felt very grateful for their kind 
attention. The next day Mr. and Mrs. Coles came 
for us and accompanied us to Middlebury, where we 
visited the Wheelers and Mrs. Wainwright; from 
thence we went to Glens Falls, and then returned 
home. * * * 

I am glad that you are so well pleased with your 
place and school. You enjoy a privilege that per- 
haps you know not now how to prize, but I trust you 
will endeavor to improve every advantage, especially 
your religious privileges. Put your trust in the Lord. 

* * If babes so many years ago, 
His tender pity drew, 
He will not surely let you go 
Without a blessing too." 

Your affectionate mother, 

G. M. C. 

There are many letters from his sister Sarah, in 
which she compliments him very highly on his beauti- 
ful composition; expresses her pride and pleasure in 
the perusal of his letters which, she says — although 
she was his elder in years — she hardly felt her- 
self capable of answering; writes of his talents and 
principles which she so much admires, and gives him 
little bits of sisterly advice now and then. She 
has spent a week with him at the quiet little village 
of Bakersfield, given him an outing to Swanton and 
expresses her sorrow that she was unable to take 



42 JVLemofrs of 

him with her to Commencement at Middlebury. 
She writes: 

It would be such a comfort to me to know that my 
brothers, when grown, were filling prominent and use- 
ful stations in life. Be careful of your associates, for 
the influence of those we daily mingle with is greater 
than one would suppose, and as early impressions are 
frequently lasting, we ought ever to be upon our 
guard. Allow me to say, dear Fred, that I was proud 
to witness the respectful manner with which you 
treated those with whom you boarded and with the 
kind attention which I received from you. 

Ever your true friend and sister, 

Sarah 

In a letter to his grandparents he speaks also in 
great praise of the institution. He says thus: "If 
one has any desire to learn they can find no better 
place than this. Mr. Sandford and Mr. Bisbee are 
first-class instructors in every way and the location is 
considered very healthful; " but at the same time there 
was a touch of homesickness in the letter. In a letter 
to his mother a little later there is an earnest plea to 
come home during vacation: he was not well; was 
homesick and unhappy, and did so want to see 
"mother." One can hardly know what it cost that 
mother to refuse his request, but it was the father's 
wish that the children should not come home until 
his return from California; so the boy of thirteen 
years spent his summer vacation among strangers, 
dissatisfied and unhappy. 



frederfch Cleveland 43 

He probably remained at Bakersfield until the latter 
part of 1852, when he left and entered the Albany 
Boys' Academy. His father had returned from Cali- 
fornia, had purchased a house in the city of Albany, 
and the family had moved there in the spring of 1852. 
This home was very much enjoyed by all, especially 
by his mother. She was near her parents and friends. 
Like her father she was "given to hospitality" and 
the house was filled to overflowing. 

In 1853 his sister Cornelia was married to Dr. Ben- 
son, a young physician, and soon afterward she went 
with her husband to the state of Wisconsin, where he 
began the practice of medicine. She died at Glens 
Falls at the early age of twenty-nine, and lies buried 
in the cemetery at Utica, N. Y. One of her children 
died in infancy but she left one daughter, Carrie 
Gregory, who also died in early womanhood leaving 
one son. 

And if through patient toil, we reach the land 
Where tired feet, with sandals loosed may rest, 

When we shall clearly see and understand 

I think that we will say " God knew the best." 

— May Riley Smith. 

The house at Albany was only kept one year when 
the family removed to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, leav- 
ing Frederick a student at the Albany Academy. He 
boarded with Dr. Mitchel and afterwards with Miss 
Groesbeck, a friend of his mother's. He spent his 
vacations with his mother's relatives, and his surround- 
ings were very congenial. His parents were cheered 



44 JVLemoirs of 

by excellent reports from his teachers, and he steadily 
progressed in his studies. 

Near the close of his academy days occurred an 
event which came very near ending his young career 
and of which he spoke afterward as being one of his 
many "close calls." He had gone out on the roof of 
the academy building with three classmates, Dudley 
Olcott, Rollin Meads and Mr. Van Dyke, when some 
one proposed that they climb to the top of the cupola 
and study their lessons there. Olcott, Meads and 
Van Dyke succeeded in reaching the top safely, but 
when Cleveland was ascending he took hold of an 
ornament in the cornice which suddenly gave way and 
he was precipitated to the roof below. His compan- 
ions were appalled and almost feared to look down 
lest they might behold him mangled and dead. He 
struck on his feet, fell over on his back and lay stun- 
ned for several moments, then he picked himself up, 
walked to his boarding place and was in school next 
morning. 

Frederick was very fond of skating. One winter 
while in Albany he skated up the river to Troy with 
a number of young men, fell into a hole in the ice 
and had a marvelous escape. 

At another time, while visiting his aunt in West 
Troy, he went down to the river with his cousins to 
watch the water which was rapidly rising and had 
become very threatening. He stepped upon a log 
near the bank, it turned over and he was precipitated 



frederich Cleveland 45 

in the water. As he rose to the surface he attempted 
to catch hold of the end of the log, but it continued 
rolling. The current was very strong, he could not 
swim and again he went under; just as he was going 
down the third time the log shifted, throwing him out 
toward the shore and the friends on shore succeeded 
in landing him safely. 

In 1853 occurred the death of his grandfather, 
Dr. Freligh. His aunt Leah Van Pelt, wrote of her 
father's last illness as follows: 

Your uncle and I were with him on the last Satur- 
day before his death, staying by his bedside all night. 
He was very sick and the physician thought him 
dying, but he rallied and lived until the Saturday fol- 
lowing, when he quietly passed away. What a happy 
exchange it must have been to hear the "Come, thou 
blessed of my Father." Our loss was his gain, yet it 
seemed to tear our heartstrings asunder to see him 
laid away in the grave. His funeral was very largely 
attended. The procession was more than a mile long 
and he was buried in the church yard beside his 
mother. 

Dear Fred, how often I think of the time when he 
enjoyed your society so much; he seemed to enter 
into your childish sports, and his walks in field or 
garden were always more interesting to him when you 
accompanied him. A little while before his death he 
saw me reading a letter and he said: "Is it Frederick's 
letter?" I answered no! his mother's, and he said: 
"We have heard from both," and then gave us part of 
the contents of your mother's letter. Give her our 



46 JVlemoirs of 

love and tell her to take comfort for our father is not 
dead but entered into his heavenly Father's kingdom. 

From your aunt, 

Leah Van Pelt. 

In the autumn of 1855 Frederick Cleveland entered 
Yale college. He was seventeen and a half years of 
age. He had not graduated at the Albany Academy, 
was not satisfactory in Greek, but he was received in 
the sophomore class on condition of his being tutored. 
Thus began a severe course of study which he was not 
able long to continue. It was far too severe. He 
did not want to go to Yale; preferred Union college 
on account of its course not being so difficult and 
because it was near his relatives and friends. His 
father did not like Union college — preferred Yale — 
and he wished him to enter there and finish his literary 
course as speedily as possible. Frederick made a 
strong resistance but did not succeed and five months 
of hard study began, often studying until two or three 
o'clock in the morning, when, utterly exhausted, his 
head would drop over his book in sleep and he would 
be awakened by the ringing of the chapel bell for 
early morning prayer. 

One morning in the spring of 1856 he took his 
traveling bag in hand and with a check sent him from 
home to pay board and other expenses, he and 
another young gentleman left Yale college forever. 
They took a boat for Charleston, S. C. ; from thence 
they boarded a train for a small station, simply chosen 



frederich Cleveland 47 

because the amount of money on hand could just pay 
their expenses there. They had no purpose in life. 
They wanted to get away from Yale and see the 
world. They had never known hardship or care, and 
they imagined that when their money was exhausted 
they had only to ask for a position and some one 
would feel highly honored to receive in his employ 
two such fine looking young gentlemen as themselves. 
So when the station was reached they left the train 
and boldly started out to "tramp." They called for 
their dinners at the plantations as they came along 
and paid for them with their linens, handkerchiefs or 
underwear, until the bag began to grow very light, 
and with their fastidious notions of cleanliness they 
thought it not prudent to part with any more, so they 
boldly went to the front doors and asked for food — 
and sometimes shelter — without remuneration, and 
Frederick said they were never refused. But they 
had not counted on the sparsity of inhabitants in the 
southland and the distance between the towns was 
very great. The young adventurers had not agreed 
very well; tramping had not been so romantic after 
all. They wondered what they were doing at Yale 
college and Frederick wondered if a tramp to Wau- 
kegan, Illinois, where his father was then living, would 
not have been more profitable to him after all. Was 
the father watching for his prodigal boy, as the father 
watched for the prodigal in the Bible story? He 
feared not, and wondered what reception would await 



48 , jVTemofrs of 

him if ever he should go back. His eyes had been 
very sore through long hours of study, but they were 
well now and his health was very much improved, but 
his feet! He was not accustomed to long walks and 
his feet just simply tortured him to death, but he 
must keep on tramping, there was no help for him now. 
He thought of the sweet white face of his gentle 
mother and of the terrible excitement when the mes- 
sage came from New Haven, Conn. — as come it must 
— that the son upon whom they had built such fond 
hopes had disappeared from college and no one knew 
whither. He could imagine the terrible anger of his 
father, the tearful, pitiful entreaties>of his mother for 
him. He knew that she was praying for her wander- 
ing boy, and his heart fairly broke when he thought 
of the agony he had caused her. He had passed a 
sleepless night, trudged on all morning unable to eat 
and now they were nearing a city and there was some 
hope of securing employment. They were willing to 
do anything for they were both penniless and they 
had agreed to separate. They were tramping down 
the railroad tracks and nearing the station and offices. 
They would ask for work there. So Fred winked 
back a tear, wiped the dust of travel from his face 
with his soiled handkerchief, and stepping into the 
Georgia Central railroad office he asked to see the 
superintendent. He was a splendid looking fellow of 
thirty-five or forty, had a kindly beaming face, but 
replied very positively that there was no position in 



frederfch Cleveland 49 

that office for them, at the same time he requested 
them to be seated until he was at leisure; then he 
asked them a great many questions: their name, resi- 
dence, where they were going and so forth ; to all of 
which they replied truthfully. Then he told them 
again that he had nothing for them to do, but as they 
were about to separate he would take the younger one 
home with him and wait until something turned up. 
So Frederick went over to the beautiful home of James 
K. Porter, not as a tramp, but as an honored guest. 
He was welcomed by Mr. Porter's mother; sat down 
by their side at their table and received every atten- 
tion possible. He had not told them anything of h's 
home nor of his being a runaway from Yale college, 
but after a few days Mr. Porter advised him to write 
home to his mother, and he did so. It was a long, 
loving penitent letter; a confession of wrong doing 
and an earnest plea for his father's and mother's for- 
giveness. 

His mother was overjoyed to hear from her boy; 
the suspense had nearly broken her heart; now she 
knew that he was alive and well, and she was more 
than willing to forgive. She besought him to be good 
and true, to love Jesus, and ask Him to help him, 
but she had a hard message from his father. He 
would never forgive him; he was no son of his; he 
had disinherited and washed his hands from him for- 
ever. He had disgraced his name and his family and 

must abide the consequences. 
4 



50 JVIemofrs of 

He wrote letter after letter, and every week 
received a loving reply from his mother, but none 
from his father, and no money ever came to relieve 
his needs or pay his way home. His mother had 
also written to Mr. Porter, expressing to him her 
gratitude for his care of her boy, and Mr. Porter had 
learned that Fred's father was a man of means and 
prominence in the west. 

The Porter family, mother and son, had learned to 
love him dearly and wished him to remain with them; 
but after six weeks of worry and homesickness, Mr. 
Porter kindly loaned Fred thirty dollars to pay his 
fare back to his friends, taking his note in return. 
He came on to New York state, to his aunt Elizabeth's, 
remaining there about three months. At the expira- 
tion of that time his aunt wrote a sharp letter to his 
father, who was beginning to yield to the loving 
entreaties of his wife, and on its receipt he started for 
Schenectady. In the meantime Grandma Freligh had 
sent Fred on to his home in Waukegan, 111., and he 
and his father passed each other on the way. When 
the father reached Schenectady he was completely 
broken down with grief. He had set his heart upon 
his son taking a profession; had seen in him unusual 
talent and it was hard to give up his cherished hopes 
for his boy, but he was ready to forgive and he 
did. 

No one can tell of the meeting between father and 
son, and of the joy of that precious mother. 



f rederich Cleveland 5 1 

In 1877 Mr. Cleveland and his wife took a trip 
through the south. He told her the story over again 
and promised to show her the office and the great 
white house with its encircling porch where he went 
"a stranger and they took him in." He found a new 
station but the house and its row of negro cabins were 
gone. On inquiry he found that James K. Porter was 
living at Atlanta. He found him still in the railroad 
business, stout and gray and bald, but they recognized 
each other immediately and were rejoiced to meet 
again, each supposing the other under the sod. Mr. 
Porter had been cavalry officer in the Confederate army 
for nearly four years. Before leaving home he had 
buried forty thousand dollars in gold under some 
bricks in the hearth of his office at Madison. When 
Gen. Sherman marched to the sea everything was 
burned before him and nothing remained of the office 
but a little pile of brick. On his return home he 
quickly began the search for his treasure and it was 
found all right. He said he had wonderfully pros- 
pered and his buried treasure had doubled and trebled 
many times. Mr. Cleveland brought him to his hotel 
and introduced him to his wife. Mrs. Cleveland 
asked him if he was not afraid to take a stranger into 
his home, adding she thought it was running a great 
risk. He said to her: "When I looked into the face 
of the boy I saw innocence; when he spoke, his 
speech betrayed education and refinement and his 
manner bespoke careful home training. I did not 



52 JVIemoirs of 

like the young man he was with but I mistrusted that 
some mother might be watching for Fred, so I took 
him home with me and waited." Mr. Cleveland 
asked him if he still held his note for thirty dollars. 
On receiving a smiling reply in the affirmative Mr. 
Cleveland promised to send, on his return home, a 
check containing the amount with interest for twenty- 
one years. The following letter is in acknowledg- 
ment of the check: 

Atlanta, Ga., 

May 17, 1877. 
Dear Fred: 

Yours of April 3d came safe to hand containing 
check for $80.40, in full payment of $30 note with 
eight per cent interest for twenty-one years. I now 
enclose you this note, receipted on the back, and 
I also send you a letter received from your good 
mother after you had left our home in 1856. It is 
certainly a great pleasure for me to know that I was 
kind to one who fully appreciated it and thinks him- 
self benefitted thereby. I would be glad to know 
what had become of Winslow, and to learn how he 
had succeeded in life. Often after the war have I 
thought of you, but, of course, thought you had 
gone to your long home and was truly agreeably 
surprised the evening you came into my office and 
do truly regret you and your wife did not remain 
longer in our city. It will be impossible for us to 
visit you this summer but we will do so at some 
future time. * * * It gives me much pleasure 



frcdertck Cleveland 53 

to show your check and it may be some time before 
I use it. 

I am your friend now as of twenty-one years ago, 

James K. Porter. 

The following letter from Mr. Cleveland's mother 
was inclosed in Mr. Porter's: 

Waukegan, III., 

April 9, 1856. 

Your very kind letter has just reached me in regard 
to my son Frederick's departure from your place. 

Words are insufficient to express my gratitude for 
your kindness manifested to my dear child when a 
stranger in a strange land, and in want. Let me 
thank you in relieving a mother's anxious mind in 
regard to his deportment. We have all one common 
Father, who watches over all our actions. I trust he 
will reward you and yours and that he may open the 
windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing until 
there shall not be room to receive it, is the prayer of 
Your friend and well wisher, 

Gertrude M. Cleveland. 

In 1895 Mr. Porter entertained at his elegant home 
in Atlanta Mr. Cleveland's eldest son and his wife, 
and also his daughter, Maude. Two years later, 
January, 1897, he was called to his reward. 

44 For so He giveth his beloved sleep." 



54 JVIemotrs of 



Chapter IV 
LIFE ON THE FRONTIER 

When the evening shadows lengthen 

Where my temple should arise, 
There were only shattered ruins, 

And I stood with tear-dimmed eyes. 
Not one block laid in the building 

I had planned with such loving care, 
Only these scattered fragments 

Were strewn before me there. 

" — Mrs. Paul. 

Soon after Frederick's entrance into Yale college 
his father became involved in a law suit with the 
La Crosse and Milwaukee railroad and at the sugges- 
tion of his lawyer, Matt Carpenter, afterward United 
States senator from Wisconsin, he removed from Mil- 
waukee to Waukegan, 111. This suit occupied seven 
years and was decided in his father's favor. While 
the suit was pending Frederick came home. He had 
spent a pleasant summer at his Aunt Elizabeth's after 
all. It is true he had to help on the farm, but on the 
adjoining farm lived his old schoolmate and friend, 
Gertrude. Her father was brimful of fun. Fred 
called him "Uncle Billy," for reasons of his own, and 
he did love to call upon his cousin. With his great 
straw hat on the back of his head and the reins about 
his neck he had plowed the fields near her home and 



fredericfc Cleveland 55 

when the horses needed rest — and they did need it 
so often — he had stopped in front of the door, given 
a little signal, and over would come his cousin, and 
then they had a little chat together, each leaning on 
his or her own side of the fence. 

And so the months went swiftly by and he was to 
leave for his western home. He remembered as he 
bade her good bye that he had discovered a tear on 
her cheek, and no one's grief had ever caused him 
pleasure before. 

Now he was at home in Waukegan; father and 
mother, brothers and sisters were all together. He 
had accepted a position as teacher and he was having 
a happy year of home life. He did not care for 
school teaching, however, so he refused the position 
another year and went out on the "frontier," as west- 
ern Iowa was then called. Here he joined a relative 
in the purchase of a tract of land in Belvidere, 
Monona county, Iowa. It seemed as if he had gone 
out of the world. The journey was mostly by stage and 
required a month. He was eight miles from the stage 
line even, and this end of the journey had to be made 
on foot. The air was clear and beautiful and it 
scarcely seemed three miles, but he soon discovered 
that he had not been misinformed. He had to cross 
two rivers; they were not wide, but deep; too deep 
to ford, and he traveled up and down the bank some 
time before he discovered the way over. Two trees 
leaning over the waters' edge on either side overlocked, 



56 JVlemofrs of 

and with some trepidation he climbed up one and 
down the other on the opposite side. When he 
reached the second river there were no trees on its 
banks, but a long way up he found a strong pole; the 
river was not so deep and quite narrow so he struck 
the pole in the middle of the stream and swung him- 
self over on the other side. 

Mr. and Mrs. Bisbee, the friends to whom he had 
gone, gave him a warm welcome. Mr. Bisbee had 
been his instructor at Bakersfield, Vt, and Mrs. Bis- 
bee was a relative. They had been reared in the com- 
forts of New England life, but he found them living 
in primitive style. She was making butter with an 
improvised churn — a chopping bowl and spoon — but 
on his first visit to the little store he purchased a 
churn for her and thus during his stay with them he 
sought to relieve her labors in many ways. She 
endured patiently all the hardships that usually befall 
the early settler, looking forward to the day — not far 
distant to her eye — when the land would be teeming 
with life; when their town would be the terminus of 
many railroads and the great metropolis of western 
Iowa. 

Frederick Cleveland was an ardent lover of nature. 
Of western Iowa he wrote as follows: "They call 
this a wilderness. It might be called such on account 
of its scarcity of human beings, but as for the country 
itself I do not think I ever saw a more perfect para- 
dise. When I look upon a tract of country extending 



frederfch Cleveland 57 

as far as the eye can see from east to west, from north 
to south, almost entirely free from trees, except here 
and there a grove, as if intended to supply the 
country with fuel and building material ; when I 
contemplate that the only labor necessary to bring 
this land into a high state of cultivation consists 
in turning over the sod and planting, and when I 
remember that this same land may be purchased for a 
mere song, I wonder that it is not immediately taken 
up. I believe that in four or five years emigration 
wiil make this a well peopled country and in four 
years we shall certainly see the steamhorse pacing his 
course through our midst on the northern route to the 
Pacific ocean. Forty miles of the eastern end of the 
Iowa Central railroad is already completed and next 
summer they intend to commence work on the western 
terminus. This road runs through Monona county. 
At the terminus of this road on the Missouri river, 
there will undoubtedly be a large town, the metropolis 
of western Iowa. Here I am, and here I expect to 
make my future home." 

Alas ! we raise bright hopes that can never be real- 
ized; we build great castles that crumble into dust. 
Whatever the present may have for us we are still 
looking for something better beyond. Life is a strug- 
gle at the most and all through the encircling years, 
from the cradle to the grave, there is a continual bat- 
tle. The goal is never reached. The unseen hand 
that marks out our destiny rarely leads us through a 



58 JVlemofrs of 

pathway of roses, and never till we have crossed the 
river of Death will the mysteries of life be unravelled. 

The summer on the frontier glided by, the autumn 
days passed pleasantly away, but the long, long win- 
ter seemed unending. The cold was intense and the 
wind swept over the trackless prairies with howl and 
shriek beyond description. The snow reached nearly 
to the top of the log cabins and found its way through 
window and roof and chink. The supplies at the lit- 
tle store, eight miles away, were brought from St. 
Louis before the Missouri closed, but they had grown 
very scarce, and though the early settlers struggled 
bravely on it seemed as though there would be great 
suffering before the coming of the long delayed 
spring. He was not fitted for hard work; not physi- 
cally able to endure the hardships of another such 
winter and there was nothing for him now to do but 
pull up the tent stakes and seek elsewhere for the 
home he so much desired. 

In the month of May, 1858, we find him again on 
the march. He had not cared to make any change. 
His father had given him his choice before he left 
home, either to teach in the public school at Wauke- 
gan or to go out to Mr. Bisbee in Iowa. He had 
chosen Iowa. His father had sent him off with a good 
sized check and with the assurance that if he did not 
use it wisely he need not look to him for further 
assistance, and in spite of all his efforts and all his 
hardships he had not made a success. 



frcdcHch Cleveland 59 

On an early May morning he bade farewell to the 
friends and scenes of western Iowa and made his way 
by ox team and canvas covered wagon to the banks 
of the Missouri river, where he disposed of the team 
and took a skiff for Kansas city. He longed to get 
back into civilization, and as his frail boat swept 
swiftly down the muddy current of the Missouri, he 
thought how like to it was his own young life, swept 
hither and thither on the billows of trial and disap- 
pointment, liable to be wrecked on the rocks and 
shoals on every side, and yet he had not anchored 
himself on the Rock of Ages. He thought of 
his mother's training. He thought of his moth- 
er's prayers. He had not told her of the hard- 
ships of that long lonely winter nor of his leaving 
Belvidere. He thought of her letters, how he should 
miss them, and the letters of the young girl away off 
in New York state. They had been such a comfort 
to him in his loneliness and now they would come 
and lie uncalled for just when he needed them so 
much. The future was all unknown to him and 
although he must dash away the tears as he thinks of 
his wrecked hopes, yet his heart is still brave and 
buoyant and again he faces the future without a doubt 
or a misgiving. 



6o JVlemofrs of 



Chapter V 



ON THE PLAINS OF KANSAS 

Who can paint 
Like Nature? Can imagination boast 
Amid its gay creation hues like hers? 

— Thomson. 

He reached Kansas city the latter part of May, 1858, 
just in time to make one of a party of surveyors 
under Major Frederick Hawn, assistant geologist of 
the state of Kansas. Its object was to survey for 
geological purposes the plains of Kansas, at that time 
an almost unknown region, inhabited only by wild 
animals and Indians. What a wierd looking caravan 
it was that moved up from the banks of the Missouri 
on that early June morning of 1858! Its long train 
of canvas covered wagons, drawn by four or perhaps 
six oxen, and laden with supplies for the summer and 
autumn's campaign , consisting of food and raiment, 
bedding, cooking utensils, instruments for surveying 
and for other purposes and all the paraphernalia 
belonging to a camping outfit. The first two hundred 
miles west of the Missouri river the country presented 
the finest scenery in the west. As far as the eye 
could reach it was one wide rolling prairie; the 
exquisite surface rolling like waves of the sea from 



frederfch Cleveland 61 

north to south was broken at long distances by the 
water courses along whose banks stood trees of elm 
and cottonwood and tangles of foliage and fern. The 
rich green grass was flecked with many a bright prairie 
flower, and scattered through it were glimpses of 
prairie fowl and plover and other game to delight the 
heart of the huntsman and tickle the palate of the 
epicure. Antelope "chased over the plain/' their 
dainty feet seeming scarcely to touch the ground 
beneath them, while the liquid notes of the lark was 
heard trilling sweet melody on all sides. No land 
could be richer; no sight more entrancing. To a 
lover of the beautiful in nature like Frederick Cleve- 
land nothing passed unnoticed. He drank in all with 
a glowing heart and a sparkling eye, and throughout 
his lifetime the picture then painted was never effaced. 
The train stretched from one quarter to one third 
of a mile long and moved from twelve to fifteen miles 
per day. At night the wagons were drawn together 
in a circle forming a corral which proved a protection 
against the Indians and from the fierce looking wolves 
by which the country was then infested. The camp 
fire was started, the oxen turned loose to graze for 
awhile before they were corralled for the night, the 
evening meal was carefully prepared and most heartily 
enjoyed and then followed a season of story-telling, 
after which the weary travellers lay down with their 
rifles close at hand, sleeping as soundly on their 
buffalo skins, in the tents or in the wagons, or per- 



62 JVIemotrs of 

haps under the wagons, as they would have slept in 
the softest beds at home. 

A few days out from the Missouri river and the 
scene is changed, the green grass gives place to thin 
dry soil; a dead level spreads before the restless eye 
and the days grow monotonous. The caravan soon 
becomes separated and Frederick is travelling the 
plains of Kansas alone. He is to go "twenty-one days 
toward the setting sun till he reaches the creek bor- 
dered with cottonwood trees; two days up the creek 
till he reaches a pile of stones, again toward the set- 
ting sun three days, then halt and wait for the train." 
During the twenty-six days of his lonely journey he 
had tried to vary his occupation and his rations. He 
had not studied the culinary art but "necessity is the 
mother of invention/' and he had many a game din- 
ner of his own cooking. There were no game laws 
then and he lost no opportunity. He "fared sumptu- 
ously" on frogs legs, broiled, baked, friccaseed or 
fried, which he had caught himself, using a piece of 
his red flannel underwear for bait He had with him 
a. supply of canned vegetables of all kinds; also bacon, 
tea, coffee, flour, etc. He had encountered Indians, 
but they were not unfriendly. Their paint and feath- 
ers and flourishing tomahawks, however, were not 
attractive to him and he kept them at a distance, and 
lonely as he was their absence was always preferable 
to their company and they were given to understand 
that a large party was approaching and could be with 



frederfch Cleveland 63 

him at any moment. Once they had run off with one 
of his oxen. He had objected but his objections were 
overruled and ever afterward, until he met the party, 
he brought them in early and tethered them near his 
camp; indeed they were company for him and made 
him feel less lonely. The plains of Kansas in 1858 
were swarming with buffalo, herding together by 
thousands. It was not a difficult task to bring down 
several of them to camp night after night when the 
party was large and fully equipped for the hunt, but 
the boy of twenty, alone on the prairies, kept himself 
aloof, and his ox train crept lazily onward while the 
herds of buffalo stopped grazing and watched won- 
deringly the distant caravan, then turned their heels 
and sped away. The miserable howl of the half fam- 
ished wolves was heard near to his camp night after 
night, but he kept up the fires, piling on sage brush 
and buffalo chips till they sparkled and crackled and 
sent up a glow of light and warmth and cheer. Then 
he lay down with his rifle by his side and slept the 
sleep of the weary. There was not the usual quantity 
of rain that summer but he encountered several very 
severe thunder storms with heavy winds that nearly 
tore away the canvas cover from his wagon. He was 
wet to the skin and unwisely allowed the garments 
to dry upon his back and within a few days he was 
taken with chills and fever. At a certain hour each 
day after dinner (and he hastened dinner to be ready), 
the chill came on and his teeth chattered and his body 



64 JYEemofrs of 

shook like an aspen leaf, then came the fever, when 
he seemed to be on fire, and after this he fell asleep, 
awakening very weak but ready for his duties. A 
week had passed away since he had reached his halt- 
ing place and yet there was no sign of the expected 
and much longed for party. His camp had been 
pitched at the opening of a little glen scooped out 
like a bird's nest between three hills. A creek ran 
by furnishing water for drinking and cooking purposes 
and a clump of cottonwood trees furnished shade. It 
was one of the best camping grounds he had had yet. 
For weeks he had had no companionship, his rations 
had run low and the "chills and fever" had weakened 
and depressed him and he longed for the coming of 
the train. One day early in the morning he had 
turned out his cattle as usual but when night came 
on, two of them had not returned and he started out 
in search. It was just before dark and he clambered 
up the hill not only hoping to catch a glimpse of the 
stray cattle but also hoping to see not far distant the 
white canvas covered wagons of the party winding 
their way to his camp. Like Robinson Crusoe of old 
he viewed the vast expanse on either side but saw 
nothing to give him encouragement, when suddenly 
he was startled by the howl of a large grey wolf not 
far from him. He knew the animal would not attack 
him alone but the howl was immediately answered by 
one from the hill to the west and that was followed by 
another to the east and then he knew they would 



frederfcfc Cleveland 65 

soon close in upon him. Already the green eyes of 
the hungry animal were watching him; his rifle was in 
camp, there was no time to lose and in an instant he 
turned and ran down the hill with the speed of an 
antelope never stopping till he had reached the camp 
fire before which he threw himself utterly exhausted. 
Never afterward did he wander away without the 
friendly rifle, and often as he related the story to his 
children did he try to depict the great horror that fell 
upon him on that lonely night on the plains of Kan- 
sas in the early autumn of 1858. Thus the days 
passed slowly onward. He watched the sun morning 
by morning as it rose above the horizon to the east, its 
diverging rays tinting the plains with crimson and 
gold; he watched it as it set in the west, its lingering 
rays painting the landscape into marvelous hues and 
coloring the banks of drifting snow in the fleecy 
cloudland above. With unutterable longing he looked 
for some friendly face and longed for the sound of 
a human voice. And now his larder was nearly 
empty. The tea and coffee were gone but he had 
made himself a palatable drink by using the syrup 
from the dried apple sauce. The canned fruit and 
vegetables had given out and the biscuits or crackers 
had become musty. What was he to do? He 
thought of the good things upon his mother's table, 
of which he had most bountifully participated, was 
sorry he had not participated more, and then he set 

himself down to meditate. What youth of twenty 
5 



66 JYIemoirs of 

does not count the culinary department an exceedingly 
important factor in his life? He had stood in his 
mother's kitchen and watched the cook on baking 
days and he remembered she had used a cup of but- 
ter or a cup of lard in baking. He thought he could 
make himself a pan of biscuit and not knowing which 
to use he took a cup of both adding a tablespoon of 
salt and another of saleratus, with a bowl of water and 
flour to make stiff. Alas! What a sight met him as 
he drew those biscuits from the oven! They were 
a golden color, so full, of saleratus that the odor was 
stifling and when he tasted them they were too salty 
for use. He was not to be outdone, however, so he 
began experimenting until in a short time he had suc- 
ceeded in making biscuit fit for a king to eat and 
ever afterward he used to boast that ever since his 
twentieth year he had "lightened" the biscuit and 
cake question until they would bear the criticism of 
the sharpest epicure. He had scanned the prairies 
for hours without avail, had eaten his frugal dinner 
with little relish and then he had set himself down to 
reflect. The past came before him like a great pano- 
rama; the days of hard study at Yale college, the 
long tramp through the sunny south, the rejoicing of 
the father and mother over the prodigal's return, the 
quiet year of home life at Waukegan and then the 
hard disappointing year on the frontier. He passed 
through it all again in fancy and here he was a prodi- 
gal on the plains of Kansas and no one knew his 



frederich Cleveland 67 

whereabouts. The fire went out under the camp ket- 
tle, the cattle were lowing to be tethered, the sun sank 
behind the crimson clouds and the evening star 
twinkled in the west, and he was in dreamland. In 
imagination he was in the dining room again at Wau- 
kegan and the family were about the table. He heard 
the rattling of the dishes and the subdued conversa- 
tion. He saw the face of his mother, there were tears 
in her eyes and by her side stood a vacant chair. He 
knew by her sweet sad face that she was thinking of 
him and quickly he sprang behind her and putting 
his hands over her eyes he said in his old boyish way 
"Quick, mother, who is it? guess!" and she ex- 
claimed: "O, my son! my son, Fred!" At the sound 
of her voice he awakened hardly remembering where 
he was. It seemed so real, so like a human voice 
and the sound of his name was so familiar. What 
was it he heard. He lifted himself up from his 
buffalo rug and listened, "Fred! Fred! Hello there, 
old boy, are you dead or alive?" And not more than 
twenty feet from him stood the long looked for train. 
There was great joy in the camp that night. The 
camp fires were rebuilt. The odor of coffee and fried 
buffalo steak soon became very inviting to the hungry 
travellers and they all sat down to supper, of which 
they partook with a relish. The wonderful experiences 
of the past month as related were exceedingly inter- 
esting and they kept up the thrilling conversation until 
a late hour. Three days later they pulled up the 



68 JVLemofrs of 

tent stakes and the caravan began its homeward 
march, reaching Kansas city in the autumn of 1858, 
after a tramp of fifteen hundred miles over the plains 
of Kansas. 



frederfch Cleveland 69 



Chapter VI 



AMID THE BAYOUS OF LOUISIANA 

In the sweet scented pictures, heavenly Artist, 
With which Thou, paintest Nature's wide spread hall, 

What a delightful lesson Thou impartest, 
Of love to all ! 

Were I in churchless solitudes remaining, 

Far from all voice of teachers and divines, 
My soul would find, in flowers of God's ordaining 

Priests, sermons, shrines. 

— Horace Smith. 



In April, 1859, we find him at Bayou Chene, La., 
in the employ of Roth & Swain, lumber dealers. On 
his return to Kansas city after his trip with the sur- 
veying party over the plains of Kansas, he had imme- 
diately started for the south, arriving there with little 
money, a scanty wardrobe and no friends. He took 
the first position open to him, attracted the attention 
of Roth & Swain by his gentlemanly deportment, 
his refined and cultured manner, and his scholarly 
attainments. They offered him a position with 
their firm as bookkeeper at a fair salary and afterward 
as assistant manager of their large milling enterprise, 
both of which he gladly accepted. 

Of his two years of frontier life and of his new 
home he wrote thus: "Two years of life in an out of 



70 JVIemoirs of 

the way country has satisfied me and I think was quite 
enough to make me seek a more desirable place of resi- 
dence. In fact I much prefer to live in a stirring 
business country than to drag out an existence on the 
frontier. I am well suited here in the land of 
sugar and oranges. I have a good salary and square- 
dealing employers, and here I expect to remain. My 
home is about one hundred and fifty miles from New 
Orleans, a little west of the Mississippi on the steam- 
boat route to Attakapas. Plaquemine is our nearest 
point on the Mississippi. All business is done here 
on a large scale. The smallest sugar planters make 
fifteen thousand dollars per year, and money is plenty 
in Louisiana." 

He was right in the midst of tropical forests and 
they were ever a study to him and a source of great 
pleasure. The sycamores, in which the country 
abounded, were laden with long grey moss forming a 
contrast to the beautiful live oak and the tall cypress 
and stately palms, and the lower foliage with its 
varied colors and forms. All these were reflected in 
the limpid waters of the Bayou until one could hardly 
perceive the real from the shadow. It was a country 
of lakes and islands. 

His business hours were from daylight till dark, 
but if at any time there was an hour's recreation the 
little white skiff might be seen sailing almost any- 
where through the forests while its owner sat silently 
drinking in the beauties of the tropical scenery. How 



frederfch Cleveland 71 

dark and lazy and pelucid the waters did look and 
how perfectly they did mirror back each tree and 
shrub and fern and flower, and every tiny tint and 
hue were repainted upon the surface with resplendent 
coloring. There was no artist in all the world like 
the great Artist whose hand fashioned each tiny leaf 
and set it in its place; whose hand covered the little 
acorn in its grave and out of that grave he raised 
the great live oak; whose brush, painted with unerring 
skill, each shrub and tree and flower. It was He 
who hung up the sky as a curtain and swung out the 
sun, moon and stars in their place. Surely, "The 
heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament 
showeth His handiwork." And yet this great lover 
of nature had not found out God, the Creator, as his 
Father; had not seen Him in the face of Jesus Christ. 
He had heard of Him in his early years from the lips 
of his precious mother; had knelt at that blessed 
family altar — his mother's knee — and said "Our 
Father," and yet he had never known the blessedness 
of the relationship. He spoke of these years in after 
life as wasted years. All years to him were wasted 
years before he knew the Lord, and as he neared the 
better land and his feet were almost on the brink of 
the river, when asked what he would tell Jesus when 
first he met Him, he said: "I'll tell Him how sorry I 
am I did not know Him sooner; I did not serve Him 
earlier." Years before, when a student at the Albany 
Academy, he had attended a series of evangelistic 



72 JVIemofrs of 

meetings, and they had awakened in him a sense of 
his sinfulness and his need of a Savior; but he was a 
thousand miles away from his mother and no one had 
spoken to him personally about his soul and so after 
a struggle of several weeks he had drifted away and 
wasted many, many years. 

As soon as he became settled in the south he 
wrote home to his parents apprising them of his 
whereabouts and of his prospects. They had not 
heard from him for more than a year and they were 
rejoiced to hear, but they urged him to come home 
immediately. There was a war cloud in the sky with 
an ominous look, and they saw it but they could not 
make him see. He was sanguine of success; was 
overjoyed to hear from home, and promised them a 
visit the following year. 

At the time he wrote to his parents informing them 
of his whereabouts there was another little white 
winged messenger speeding its way to the old farm 
house on the banks of the Mohawk. It was a mes- 
senger of love, and yet, characteristic of himself, it 
was also a message of business, for what business, said 
he, is of more importance to a young man than the 
business of choosing him a wife. They had corres- 
ponded, Frederick Cleveland and Gertrude Van 
Vranken, during his sojourn on the frontier under the 
relationship of "cousin." He wished to remind her 
that they were not cousins. No ! He had not written 
to her on the strength of relationship, but in hope of 



frederfch Cleveland 73 

a relationship in the coming years, the nearest and 
dearest on earth. If she had sustained her part in 
the correspondence for any other reason it was time 
he knew it. He had promised her mother not to 
speak upon this subject by letter, and thus far he had 
kept his promise. They were too young, were really 
very young now, but he feared if he waited until he 
could make her a visit some more fortunate one might 
step in between them and he would reach her too late. 
The same mail carried a letter to her father and 
mother. He begged pardon for writing to Gertie on 
a forbidden subject but it was done and he was not 
sorry. They knew him from a boy but if they desired 
to make any further inquiries he referred them to his 
present employer, Mr. M. L. Swain, Bayou Chene, 
La., with whom he had been for the past eight 
months. 

The old captain had always loved the boy. He 
had enjoyed his visits amazingly, but he had always 
thought they were for himself and had never taken 
his daughter into consideration. He had always 
thought of him as a boy and his daughter as a child. 
He said he never knew how it was those children grew 
up so quickly, but they did nevertheless and they 
were now awaiting his answer to a very important 
question. The answer was not long delayed and thus 
they were betrothed early in January of i860. 

Shortly after he entered the office of Roth & Swain 
he incurred the enmity of a negro of a dangerous 



74 Memoirs of 

character. While giving an order one day outside 
the mill he stood near the man, who suddenly struck 
him with a sharp axe across the right wrist, severing 
an artery, nearly destroying the muscles of the two 
smaller fingers and leaving a terrible gash. He was 
miles away from a physician and it seemed as if he 
would bleed to death. An old colored aunty up the 
Bayou was sent for, who applied remedies to stop the 
bleeding, used court plaster and bandage, and the 
next day he was on duty, but pale and weak from 
loss of blood. 

This beautiful country about Bayou Chene was 
infested with rattlesnakes, moccosins and alligators, 
and he never could get used to the sight of these ter- 
rible reptiles. One day while he was watching some 
men remove a pile of lumber from the banks of 
the Bayou he heard an ominous rattle and he saw 
an enormous rattlesnake a little way from him. The 
snake was dispatched, but fearing its mate might be 
near he ordered the men to begin work at the other 
end of the pile, when in lifting a piece of timber they 
discovered a large moccosin coiled up underneath it. 
This one was also dispatched, but it so unnerved him 
that he gave up outside work and kept to the office 
ever after. 

After he had been with Roth & Swain a year and 
a half, September 15, 1 861, he was taken with dangue 
or breakbone fever and was very ill for nearly two 
months. At the advice of his physician he took an 



frederlch Cleveland 75 

excursion down the gulf of Mexico, returning to 
Bayou Chene just as Roth & Swain were about to 
close their mills until the following spring. Unwilling 
to idle away the winter months he accepted a position 
as clerk on the steamer, Gov. A. Mouton on a larger 
salary, expecting to return to his former employers in 
the spring. He liked the position very much. It 
brought him in contact with many prominent business 
men of the south, and secondly, he was now in the mail 
service of the confederate states, and would, therefore, 
not be drafted in the army. His interests were in 
the north. He had not once dreamed that the trouble 
would result in war. He dared not leave for the 
north now for he was watched with a suspicious eye. 
Every northerner was spotted, and might be hung by 
the minute men without judge or jury at any moment. 
He had not expressed himself but everyone doubted 
his loyalty to the south. 

There were many French and Creoles in the Bayou 
country, and they, many of them at least, thought that 
a wrong should always be avenged by bloodshed, and 
bowie knives and revolvers were always at hand. 
Duels were common in that day and many a man was 
shot down and no investigation was made. 

One day as the vessel stopped at a small town on 
one of the Bayous a mob of angry men came swarm- 
ing into the boat, demanding with threats and curses, 
the surrender of the northern traitors. Mr. Cleveland 
well knew that he was one of the two they wanted, 



76 JVIemofrs of 

and he asked them on what ground he was arrested. 
They told him "as a northern spy," and he truly 
thought his hour had come. They searched his room 
and took his letters and effects and marched him up 
to the court-house, followed by the mob. The judge 
asked him if he had any friend to identify him or 
stand surety for him, and looking about he saw just 
one face he knew, and he thanked God and took 
courage, giving the name of the man, and calling him 
his friend. More than a year before he had done a 
great kindness to a stranger which brought forth many 
thanks and a promise that if Mr. Cleveland ever 
needed a friend he could look to him and he would 
stand by him. Judge of his surprise when he heard 
the man swear that he had never seen him before and 
would have nothing to do with him. As nothing was 
proven against him Mr. Cleveland was discharged. 
As he stepped into the court house square he saw the 
soldiers in groups reading and commenting on his 
private letters. Turning to the commanding officer 
he said to him: "Sir, had you read my letters for the 
purpose of finding out my character it would have 
been excusable, but is it becoming you to permit this 
in your soldiers? Is it a brave, a manly, an honorable 
act? I leave it for you and this honorable judge to 
decide." 

The letters were immediately gathered up and 
courteously returned to him and he was escorted back 
to his boat in safety. 



fredertch Cleveland 77 

On the 26th of January, 1 86 1, the solemn boom 
of cannon announced that the convention at Rich- 
mond had passed the ordinance of secession, and in 
March of the same year a final vote was taken — one 
hundred and twenty-one yeas to seven nays — and the 
confederate constitution was declared ratified by the 
state of Louisiana. 

From that time there were scenes beyond descrip- 
tion. Mr. Cleveland had intended to visit the north 
in November, i860, but his severe illness had pre- 
vented. He was to have been married January 1, 
1 86 1 but the country was then in such a turmoil that 
he dared not attempt to pass the lines. In May, 186 1, 
all communication between the north and the south 
was stopped and all letters intercepted. 

On April 16, 1862, the Conscription Act was passed 
at Richmond compelling every man between the ages 
of eighteen and thirty-five to place himself under the 
power of Jefferson Davis so long as the war should 
last. 

On May 1, 1862, the city of New Orleans fell 
before the United States troops under Admiral Far- 
ragut, and General Butler took command, holding the 
city. 

There was a conscription camp not far away from 
Mr. Cleveland's, and every man was ordered to 
report thereat in three days or be shot as a deserter. 

Thus far he had eluded the confederate service on 
the ground that as clerk on a mail steamer he was 



78 JVlemoirs of 

already in their service, but the time had come when 
he was to be forced into the army or shot as a deserter. 
There was no help for him except he should escape 
the country. This was a tremendously dangerous 
business. He had talked with the south, spoken to 
them of our cause, ^/r army, our president, and had 
written home in the same way until his friends, not 
understanding, were ready to count him a rebel and 
a traitor, yet to the south he was looked upon with 
hatred and suspicion. What was he to do? Those 
who had been friends to him had joined the confed- 
erate army long ago, and if he were with them he 
could not have gone to them for sympathy or advice. 
Life was very sweet to a young man of twenty-four, 
so with great caution he began to lay plans for an 
escape. A young man who was with him when he 
was arrested as a northern spy was with him still, 
serving in some menial capacity on the steamer. 
Since the taking of New Orleans by Admiral Farragut 
the "Gov. Mouton" had made very cautious trips 
down to the gulf through the back Bayous and she 
frequently lay for days hidden away amid the bends 
and among the trees from the gun-boats of lower 
Mississippi. Both armies swarmed the country. 
Which should he strike? If it were the United States 
army he was safe, if the confederate army he was 
doomed. Go he must; it was his only chance. 
Therefore, on the 7th of April, 1862, just nine days 
before the much talked of and dreaded Conscription 



frederfch Cleveland 79 

Act was passed he began the perilous journey. Car- 
rying with him a laundry bag of soiled linen, putting 
a double portion of clothing upon him and secreting 
a few pieces of gold coin which he had saved for an 
emergency he put his letters in his pocket and leaving 
his trunk and several hundred dollars in confederate 
money (not worth the paper on which it was printed), 
he started out. He called out to the night watchman 
and the mate that he was going to "old aunt Mary's" 
with his laundry. His little skiff lay dancing on the 
waters. It was the first thing he had purchased when 
he came to that part of the country. It was made to 
order and painted white inside and out, and when the 
painter had asked him what name he should paint 
upon it he had told him to paint these letters, G. M. C. 
They were the initials of his mother and of his 
intended wife. The little boat had lost its whiteness 
now but the letters were still there. It had carried 
his mail back and forth and had helped him while 
away many a lonely hour. O, how he hated to leave 
it! but it must go, and stepping into it he called first 
to a negro and then to the young northerner, who was 
to go with him, to row him up to old Aunt Mary's. 
It was a beautiful night, the middle of April, 1 862. The 
Bayou looked like a silver thread winding its way up 
amid the trees of live oak, palmetto and tall cypress; 
the long grey moss dipped down into the waters, the 
foliage was very dense and locked overhead so that 
the little skiff as it glided along was brushed by many 



80 Memoirs of 

an overhanging bough, which sent a spray of water 
over the occupants of the boat, both too deeply 
absorbed in their dangerous undertaking to see much 
of the scenery. Now and then a night bird flitted 
over the waters or sent up a warble from the sur- 
rounding thicket, now and then a turtle or alligator 
rolled themselves off the logs splashing the waters 
about and quickening every heart beat of the anxious 
pair in the boat. They sailed up the Bayou two or 
three miles, anchored in the thicket and then waited 
until the occupants of the "Gov. A. Mouton" had 
gone to rest for the night, for they must retrace their 
pathway past the steamer to reach New Orleans, their 
desired destination. A little after midnight they took 
up anchor, muffled their oars, and started on their 
perilous journey. The current was swift and they 
soon reached the steamer lying in the bend of the 
Bayou. A solitary light shot from one of the win- 
dows and a solitary figure sat on deck; it was the 
figure of the night watchman, but Mr Cleveland well 
knew that he had long been in the land of dreams, 
and with caution they swept by without disturbing his 
slumbers. As the light in the window grew far away 
in the distance they knew that one danger at least 
was past and they swiftly floated on down the Bayou, 
noiselessly steering their little bark amid the trees and 
overhanging moss into the channel which they both 
well knew. Five miles down the stream lived an old 
Frenchman. He lived alone with a retinue of slaves, 



fredericfc Cleveland 81 

whom he ruled with a rod of iron and with a dozen 
hungry looking bloodhounds. He was a man of 
unsavory reputation, thoroughly feared and hated by 
his neighbors and would not scruple at any vile deed. 
As they turned the bend of the Bayou and came 
directly in front of his plantation the bloodhounds 
came baying along the banks, their quick ears alert 
to the slightest ripple on the waters. In a few 
moments their master came out in undress, with a 
blazing torch above his head, looking like the witch 
of Endor. They quickly drew up under the dense 
foliage on the opposite shore, and none too quick, 
for he paced up and down on the bank, throwing his 
light here and there, shouting in broken English 
"Who goes there?" and cursing and kicking at the 
dogs. He was on the watch for an hour, it seemed 
an age to the anxious young men hiding amid the 
foliage, then kicking and cursing the brutes at his 
side again he threw his torch into the stream and 
went back into the house while they quickly drew out 
and drifted down the Bayou. As it began to grow 
light toward morning they left the little skiff to float 
on down the current while they plunged into the 
dense forest, sometimes wading into the water knee 
deep, traveling nearly all day long with nothing to eat 
but a few berries. In the latter part of the day they 
reached the railroad tracks, where they laid them- 
selves down and slept for a couple of hours. Taking 
the tracks at dark they walked all night long and 



82 Memoirs of 

then at break of day they again entered the forest 
and finding a place of safety they lay down for 
another couple of hours sleep. They were afraid to 
walk the tracks by daylight lest they should encounter 
the confederate scouts, but the third night they again 
took the tracks and hurried on, thinking that they 
could not be far from the city of New Orleans. Dur- 
ing the third night Mr. Cleveland missed his travelling 
companion, and walking back nearly two miles he 
found him asleep on the track from utter exhaustion. 
It was a cloudy night. They were both nearly per- 
ished with anxiety,, fatigue and hunger, but there was 
a faint light in the sky way down the track and think- 
ing it might be the reflection of the lights from the 
city of New Orleans they took fresh courage and 
pressed on. Suddenly in the dense darkness a figure 
stood before them and they started to go down the 
bank of the railroad as quickly as possible, when a 
voice, like a voice from the grave, called to them 
"halt! who goes there?" and they saw the glinting of 
a rifle in the darkness. They answered "a friend," 
not knowing which side was represented but willing 
just then to be friendly to either. As the soldier 
drew near demanding the countersign Mr. Cleveland 
saw it was the blue and not the grey uniform and he 
began to whistle Yankee Doodle. Xhe man asked 
him why he did this and Mr. Cleveland answered "It 
is so long since I have dared to whistle that tune 
that I thought I would see if I had forgotten it" The 



frederich Cleveland 83 

soldier was on picket duty, heard the story of their 
wonderful escape, and a little later they were passed 
on to New Orleans and taken before the commanding 
officer there. There again they told the story of their 
escape, and the officer said to them: "You are just 
the young men we want. The troops are going up 
country and we need someone to pilot us through 
who is thoroughly acquainted with that locality. 
Come, enlist and go up with us!" Mr. Cleveland 
said no; if your men are captured up there they would 
be treated as prisoners of war, while we would be 
shot as deserters. We want to go north. The officer 
saw it at once and helped them to secure passage on 
a packet bound for Boston. Arriving in Boston Mr. 
Cleveland pushed on to New York city. From thence 
he went to a little town on the Erie railroad, where 
his funds gave out and he sought employment, hoping 
to raise enough to take him on to his home in Wau- 
kegan, 111. He sent also a letter to his father stating 
his circumstances. His parents were both spending 
the summer at Saratoga Springs. The familiar hand- 
writing was recognized by his brother George, who was 
then at home. He opened the letter and replied to 
it immediately, enclosing a check and advising Fred 
to go on to his parents at the springs. At the same 
time he wrote to his father telling him of Fred's 
whereabouts. It was a joyful message and they 
waited eagerly the telegram which soon followed. He 
was to reach Saratoga on the early morning train and 



84 JVIemofrs of 

his father and his sister went down to the depot to 
meet him without letting his mother know, intending 
it as a surprise. Mrs. Cleveland waited breakfast, 
wondering where her husband and daughter were gone. 
Suddenly she was attracted by a crowd in the street 
and a carriage came swiftly driving up to the hotel. 
Mrs. Cleveland was sitting on the piazza. She arose 
to see what the excitement was. A shout went up 
from the crowd: "A refugee! A refugee ! " She saw 
her husband and daughter step from the carriage and 
a queerly dressed young man followed them. She 
recognized immediately the face of her son and they 
met with open arms while the crowd with shouts filled 
the piazza and hall and followed them up till they 
reached their room and shut the door. 

After a brief stay at Saratoga he returned with his 
parents to Waukegan, 111., making a short visit to 
his betrothed wife on the way. 

Thus ended the four years of southern life amid 
the Bayous of Louisiana. It was an experience he 
never wished to go through again, nor would he will- 
ingly part with it. He always spoke very kindly of 
the few friends he made there and he always desired 
to visit the locality again but he never did nor did he 
ever hear from anyone whom he knew there. 




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frederich Cleveland 85 

Chapter VII 
THE NEXT FIVE YEARS 



' 'God help us through the common days, 
The level stretches, white with dust, 

When thought is tired, and hands upraise, 
Their burdens feebly, since they must, 

In days of slowly fretting care 
Then most we need the strength of prayer." 



For a while after Mr Cleveland's return from the 
south his health was not good. Whether it was 
caused by change of climate, a partial sunstroke or 
an overdose of camphor, he never knew, but he had 
a severe bilious attack and he kept himself very quiet 
during the autumn of that year. In the winter, his 
health having improved, he entered into partnership 
in the drug business with Dr. B. S. Cory and his son, 
Mr. .Cleveland taking half interest, the firm name 
being known as B. S. Cory & Co. The spring follow- 
ing his father began the building of a very fine store 
for him, which was completed in the winter of 1864. 
On December 21, 1863, Frederick Cleveland was 
married to Gertrude M. Van Vranken in the village 
church at Niskayuna, N. Y. It was a beautiful win- 
ter's day. The fields looked like a sea of glass. 
Every tree and shrub was covered with a glittering 



86 JVIemoirs of 

coat of ice which shone in the sunlight as burnished 
steel. It was a clear, crisp day and very cold. The 
ceremony occurred at ten o'clock on Monday morn- 
ing and the little church was packed. After his mar- 
riage Mr. Cleveland drove to the city of Schenectady 
with his young bride and called upon his Grandmother 
Freligh, who was very old and very ill. She recog- 
nized them both and offered them her congratulations. 
The next day while they were on their journey to the 
west she had gone to her heavenly home. 

On Christmas eve, the train containing the newly 
wedded pair steamed up to the depot in Waukegan. 
They were not. expected so soon, but Frederick's 
father and brother were at the depot looking out for 
other guests and they gave them both a warm wel- 
come. 

What an evening that was! It was extremely cold 
outside but warm and bright and beautiful within. A 
very merry family sat down to a well spread table 
that night, each one seeking to make the occasion full 
of joy. The mother, with her sweet sad face wreathed 
with smiles in her unselfishness burying her sorrow 
over a precious mother passed away and giving her 
son and his wife a happy homecoming; and the sis- 
ters were not behind in their welcome. A merry 
family indeed! Where are they now? Seven have 
gone over into the better land, five of whom were 
present on that memorable evening: Father, mother, 
Sarah, Carrie, Cornelia, Sue and the young husband 



frederkh Cleveland 87 

of 1863, whose loving sunny disposition made him 
ever the light of the household. A family in heaven 
looking forward to the home coming of dear ones; a 
family on earth, much the smaller, looking forward to 
the homegoing bye and bye, longing for a glimpse 
of vanished faces and the sound of silent voices. 

44 At the crystal river's brink, 

Some sweet day, by and by ; 
We shall find each broken link, 

Some sweet day, by and by ; 
Then the star that fading here, 

Left our hearts and home so dear, 
We shall see more bright and clear, 

Some sweet day, by and by." 

The family all remained together during the winter 
and spring of 1864, but early in the summer the 
father and mother and the youngest sister left forever 
their western home. They traveled about for a year 
or more, then purchasing a home at Tarrytown, N. Y., 
they settled down, hoping to spend the remaining 
years of their life in their new home on the Hudson 
river. 

In June, 1864, Frederick and his wife began their 
first housekeeping. It was in the old home where his 
parents had lived for many years. It was a white 
cottage in the southern part of the city, one story 
high with a cupula in the center, and a broad veranda 
in front with heavily fluted Corinthian columns. It 
stood on a slope overlooking beautiful Lake Michigan. 
The grounds were tastefully laid out and they 



88 JVIemoirs of 

extended from one street back to the other, and not a 
house on the bluff gave a more extended view of the 
great lake than did this little cosy home called Patter- 
son cottage. 

The brothers and their wives were the only mem- 
bers of the family left in Waukegan. They were 
together every week and the sisters were sincerely 
attached to each other. Mr. Cleveland's brother's 
wife was very beautiful in personal appearance and 
in her character. She belonged to an old pioneer 
family, her father having been the first physician who 
settled in Lake county, 111. She was connected with 
many of the leading families there and was a great 
favorite in society. The summer of 1864 passed very 
pleasantly away and in the autumn there came a little 
messenger of love to gladden the hearts and home of 
the young couple. Mr. Cleveland named the little 
one after his father. He was very fond of his boy 
and very proud of him, watching every progress in 
the little life with amazement and pleasure. They 
were both young and inexperienced and frequently 
caused the old family physician a great deal of mer- 
riment, and sometimes discomfort, especially when he 
was called out of a warm bed with the thermometer 
below zero because baby had "snuffles," and the 
young parents were uneasy. 

Just before his marriage Mr. Cleveland joined the 
Masonic Society, rapidly rising until he had reached 
the thirty-second degree, which was at that time as 



fredertch Cleveland 89 

far as he could go in the State of Illinois. He was 
most devoted to the Society and very enthusiastic. It 
was his habit to talk much with his wife about its 
merits and its helpfulness, and once he exclaimed to 
her "O, my dear wife, if you were only a man you 
could be a Mason ! " she quickly replied "But I am not a 
man, and I would rather be your wiie than a Mason!" 
then he laughed heartily over his thoughtlessness. 

Mr. Cleveland was closely confined to his business. 
His hours generally were from eight in the morning 
until ten at night, coming home only to a three o'clock 
dinner. They gave up Patterson cottage the follow- 
ing spring. It was too far from business. They had 
dearly loved the place. The moaning of the waters 
of beautiful Lake Michigan as they beat over the 
sandy shore was sweet music in their ears, and they 
never wearied watching its varied colors — blue and 
green and purple and pink — and when "the winds 
were contrary," the white capped billows looked like 
myriads of fleecy lambs sporting themselves on the 
hillside. The lake was flecked with a hundred white- 
winged sailing vessels away out to the horizon, look- 
ing as if they were sailing between the waters and the 
sky, and the fisher folk on the sandy beach, spreading 
out their nets or setting their sails, or plying their 
avocation, added life and beauty to the scene. No 
artist ever painted a grander picture than the Great 
Artist painted day by day from the broad veranda of 
that little cottage. 



go "JVlemofrs of 

The latter part of April they stored the furniture. 
Mr. Cleveland took rooms at the hotel while the 
mother and baby came to New York State to visit 
their relatives and show off the baby. The young 
mother was not strong. She had intermittent fever 
after baby came, and the journey was long and tire- 
some for her. After a visit of nearly two months she 
returned to her home very much delighted to be with 
her husband again. They stopped at the hotel until 
the following spring, when Mr. Cleveland purchased 
a house and they began housekeeping anew. The 
new home was a little white cottage, pretty and con- 
venient, and only three blocks from the store. It 
was a corner house embowered amid locust trees, 
maples and mountain ash, and the grounds were quite 
extensive for a city home. There was a beautiful 
lawn to the side with a long shady walk from the 
veranda to the east gate. There was a vegetable gar- 
den of nearly a couple of acres and choice fruits of 
every kind. They dearly loved this little home. Two 
daughters were born here and the home life was very 
beautiful. 

The city of Waukegan was delightfully located. It 
afforded the best educational privileges. The society 
was the very best. Many of the prominent men were 
business men from Chicago, going back and forth 
each day. The long avenues were bordered with the 
homes of wealth and culture in the midst of well laid 
out lawns. The Cleveland family were among the 



frederfch Cleveland 91 

most prominent in the city. Mr. Cleveland's mother 
had long been noted for her hospitality. Her lunch- 
eons and dinners were elegantly served, and very 
much enjoyed by her many friends. She was not a 
society woman, but she loved to gather about her a 
select few among whom she stood a perfect gentle- 
woman and a true Christian. Her mother's death at 
the time of her son's marriage had withdrawn her 
from society, and she could not give any formal recep- 
tion introducing her son's wife, yet her daughter-in- 
law was received with open arms and although nearly 
thirty-five years have rolled away since then, and 
death has cut a great swath among the old families 
and friends there are still some left who are lovingly 
remembered. Mr. Cleveland was not fond of "Soci- 
ety," counted it a "bore," but he, too, gathered about 
him many friends and with his genial disposition, his 
love of mirth and his fondness for story-telling he 
could entertain by the hour and was ever a great 
favorite in the community in which he lived. 

Dr. B. S. Cory and his son had sold their interest 
jn the drug business to Mr. Van Denburg, of Chicago, 
who afterwards sold it to George Cleveland, so that 
the brothers were now in partnership, remaining 
together until 1866 or 1867, when his brother George 
removed to Tarry town, N. Y., and Mr. Cleveland car- 
ried on the business alone. He had had no vacation 
since he began business; vacation did not seem to be 
as necessary as it is to-day; the hours were longer 



g 2 JVUmofrs of 

but there was not such a pressure, such an overwhelm- 
ing strain. When his father and mother Van Vranken 
had visited them they had all gone off for a day or 
two. He was exceedingly fond of fishing and very 
successful at it, would sit for hours, wearing out the 
patience of all his companions, drawing in the fish 
without any effort on his part, while someone less 
fortunate would sit beside him with scarcely a "bite." 
He was also very fond of hunting, and was a splendid 
"shot," could take a bird on the wing with as little 
effort as if he were resting ten feet from him. The 
country abounded in game during the sixties — prairie 
chicken, quail, 'partridge and wild geese and wild 
ducks swarmed over the lakes like bees about their 
hives. Parties would go out on one of these hunting 
expeditions in the fall of the year, taking with them 
provisions, cooking utensils, hunting dogs and guns. 
The Clevelands had a very fine "chicken dog," 
named Ponto, who could track a chicken anywhere. 
Turning him loose on the prairie he would start out 
eagerly, tacking from one side of the field to the 
other. When he had scented his game he would give 
a peculiar bark, and striking a peculiar position would 
stand with tail extended, nose pointed, eyes fixed and 
with one foot lifted forward would wait for his mas- 
ter to finish his work, never attacking the bird himself. 
It was truly very exciting and most enjoyable. The 
last "hunting and fishing trip" they took was in 
November, 1867. It was out to Grass Lake, between 



frederich Cleveland 93 

twenty-five or thirty miles from Waukegan . The 
Clevelands had visiting with them an old friend and 
classmate from the "old red school house at Niska- 
yuna, N. Y. With many entreaties and plenty of 
promises the ladies had prevailed upon the party to 
allow them to accompany them, and early one morning 
they started on the journey of nearly twenty-five 
miles — five gentlemen and two ladies. Leaving the 
horses and wagons at the end of the drive they walked 
nearly half a mile through the fields until they reached 
a lonely little lake called Lake Maria. From a boat- 
house on its east bank they secured boats sufficient 
for the party, each boat holding two persons, the 
straw bed, which had been filled at the farm house, 
blankets, cooking utensils, and what little extra cloth- 
ing was necessary. The boat which had the guide, 
carried also the pork, bacon, eggs, potatoes, bread, 
etc., purchased at the farm house, and brought over 
by carts, and all the supplies and tents necessary for 
a week's trip. The boats being loaded, the party set 
off aver Lake Maria, a lovely sail of more than a 
mile; then they ran up a little winding channel hidden 
away among the reeds and wild grass, hardly ten feet 
wide, then across Lake Catharine, another beautiful 
lake, whose waters rippled and glimmered in the sun- 
light with marvelous beauty; then up another channel 
much longer, and if possible more serpentine than 
the first, and they had reached Grass Lake, their des- 
tination. It was rightly named, for the tall grass, 



94 JVIemoirs of 

wild rice and rushes, with which it was filled, made it 
look more like a wide morass, and yet its depth was 
great and the little boats sailed through its waters 
bending the grass and rice and rushes without any 
trouble. It was twelve miles wide. A little border 
of wooded hills surrounded it, and not a habitation 
could be seen except as night drew on, a faint light 
glimmered miles away across the lake. They never 
knew whether some one had made a home in that 
forsaken region, whether it was a camp fire, or some 
phantom light; some "Will O-the Wisp," which we 
read of but never see. A more forlorn, desolate 
region one could never find in all the world, and yet 
this region was a Paradise to the huntsman. Wild 
duck and wild geese literally swarmed over the lake 
by thousands. Reaching the lake the party crossed 
over a little to the north and then cast anchor a little 
to the north-west on an island covered with tall pine 
and oak timber. A foot path, of perhaps four or five 
hundred feet, through a dangerous swamp led them to 
a slight elevation, and here on a side-hill in the forest 
they struck their tents, brought from the boats their 
supplies and started the camp fires. The kettles were 
soon puffing and humming, the potatoes were roasting 
in the ashes, and long slices of bacon, on the end of 
sharp sticks held by members of the party, were fry- 
ing as they hung over the fire, blending their odor 
with the delicious flavor of the coffee, and making the 
hungry party anxious for the bugle call to dinner. 



frederlch Cleveland 95 

No dinner was ever more relished than the dinners 
cooked at Grass Lake before the camp fire. As it 
drew near the latter part of the day the whole party 
started off for the hunt. (The time for hunting this 
game is just before dawn in the morning and just at 
dusk at night). They paired off in their boats and 
separated themselves, took a place in the thicket and 
pressed up to the most secluded part waiting for the 
game. It soon came. The squak and cackle, the 
flutter and splashing were all about, and the guns 
popped right and left. The trouble is not in shooting 
the game but in finding it after it is shot. Mr. and 
Mrs. Cleveland, realizing this, pulled out and began 
the search as soon as the bird came down, and thus 
they brought more to camp than others who shot a 
greater number. As the darkness deepened the party 
came back to camp hungry and weary and cold and 
wet. The fire was replenished, the kettle was soon 
singing away for tea and another meal was enjoyed 
exceedingly. Then came the hour for story-telling, 
of wonderful escapes on the plains, of exciting buffalo 
hunts, and of marvelous encounters with Indians. 
Mr. Cleveland was the banner story-teller and every 
one enjoyed his stories, knowing they were facts and 
not fiction. It was a wierd scene that met the eye 
that night; the four white tents in the back-ground, 
the tall pines and oaks soughing overhead, the blazing 
camp fire and the merry party sitting on logs and 
camp stools around it, with faces nearly roasted seek- 



g 6 JVUmofrs of 

ing to add their part to the good cheer of the evening. 
There were two members of the " Baker family of 
Singers" present, and their sweet song rang out into 
the solitude and over across the lake and echoed back 
like music from another world. But the hour for 
retiring had come; they were very weary and must 
be up at four o'clock in the morning. There was no 
water in the camp and so on hearing one of the ladies 
express a desire for water, two gentlemen — Mr. 
Cleveland was one of them — started off with tin pail 
and lantern to bring some up from the lake. Mr. 
Cleveland walked behind, following his friend, who 
was deeply engaged in conversation, and forgetting 
the dangers of the pathway. Suddenly there was a 
cessation of locomotion, the lantern went out, the 
water pail was filled with mud and Mr. B. lay flounder- 
ing in the mire from head to foot. Mr. Cleveland 
was so convulsed with laughter that he was hardly 
able to help his friend and when the two came back 
to camp a sorry looking spectacle presented itself to 
the ladies of the party. All through the night Mr. 
Cleveland would break out into fresh laughter and 
repeat over again Mr. B.'s exclamation, made as he fell 
over into the mud: "Fred, I'm going back, my pail 
is full." Very early in the morning when Mrs. Cleve- 
land opened her tent and looked out she saw a very 
frowsy head peeping out from another tent close by. 
"Good morning, Mr. G.," she said, "how did you rest 
last night?" "Rest!" he said, "why I did not rest at 



frederfch Cleveland 97 

all. Some lunatic was altogether too funny last night, he 
laughed over his own folly all night long, but if I had 
had my hands on him I should have shaken the fun 
out of him." "Why, that was too bad," said Mrs. 
Cleveland, "he certainly deserved a good shaking." 
When her husband awoke she said to him, look out for 
Mr. G., he has "fire in his eye," and she told him his 
remarks in regard to the "lunatic"; but Mr. G. never 
found out his name. One morning just at sunrise 
a fine flock of geese came in sight. Their white 
breasts and wings shone like snow against the blue of 
the sky, and the leader, a magnificent fellow, mar- 
shalled his band like a general marshalling his troops. 
What a grand sight! that long procession, one by one, 
away up in the sky, scarcely a wing moving. Mrs. 
Cleveland begged her husband to shoot, but he shook 
his head and said they were too high. As they came 
nearer she begged him again, then there was a report 
and a smoke but it seemed to be without effect. No! 
after twenty-five feet of flying, there is a commotion up 
yonder, that fine fellow who leads the band is vainly 
beating the air; then he stops and the band moves on 
while he with a screech of pain comes tumbling down 
with a spiral motion, fluttering on the waters and coloring 
it with his life's blood. What a trophy he was ! they car- 
ried him to camp and brought him home and not one of 
the party could boast of a finer shot or a more beautiful 
young bird. Vacation is over. The stakes were pulled up; 

the fire quenched, and the party was homeward bound. 

7 



98 JVlemofrs of 

Two happy little hearts were made very glad that 
night, and the parents were rejoiced to be back with 
their children. Everything had gone well at home, 
and the pleasures of the trip furnished many an hour's 
conversation during the long winter evenings. 

The winter and spring passed away quietly. Mr. 
Cleveland was very domestic in his disposition. He 
needed to be loved. He had been much about in his 
boyhood and early youth and now he looked upon his 
home as a haven of rest. The little children had 
already found their way, alone, to the store and were 
known about town as " Fred's Ponies." Everything 
looked bright and prosperous, and yet in the early 
autumn of 1868, Mr. Cleveland had sold his home 
and business intending after a brief visit to the east to 
locate in a larger city. He had made many true 
friends in Waukegan, among them who were always 
lovingly remembered were Dr. and Mrs. Evans, the 
Cory families, Judge and Mrs. Clarke, Judge and Mrs. 
Blodget, Dr. Bullock and Dr. Barker (the old and 
beloved physician), and his family and numerous 
other friends, among whom was Rev. J. Lyman Mor- 
ton. He was Mr. Cleveland's pastor, and a brother 
Mason. He was called to his heavenly home while 
pastor of the Presbyterian church of Waukegan in 
1867, and Mr. Cleveland deeply lamented his death. 
Thus closes up the record of the home life of the 
Cleveland family in the city of Waukegan. They had 
been strong and well and happy there, are young and 



frederich Cleveland 99 

hopeful now, and as they stand upon the threshold of 
an unknown year and seek to peer over into the future 
there seems naught to trouble or make afraid. How 
blessed it is that we cannot lift the veil that God 
kindly hangs before us! 

Blindfolded and alone I stand 

With unknown thresholds on each hand ; 

The darkness deepens as I grope, 

Afraid to fear, afraid to hope : 

Yet this one thing I learn to know 

Each day more surely as I go 

That doors are opened, ways are made, 

Burdens are lifted or are laid 

By some great law unseen and still 

Unfathomed purpose to fulfil 

4 'Not as I will." Helen Hunt Jackson. 



ioo JViemotre of 



Chapter VIII 



THE UPS AND DOWNS OF CHICAGO 

LIFE 



Not now but in the coming years, 

It may be in the better land 
We'll read the meaning of our tears 

And there, sometime, we'll understand. 
We'll know why clouds instead of sun 

Were over many a cherish' d plan 
Why song has ceased when scarce begun 

Tis there, sometime we'll understand. 

El Nathan. 



We speak of the life of Mr. Cleveland in the city 
of Chicago as one of "ups and downs," but, alas! 
there was very little that was "up" in it. Almost 
the entire year had a downward trend. Why is it that 
in the record of almost eveiy Hfe there are pages full 
of blasted hopes? where every cherished plan is 
thwarted and every longing desire unsatisfied. The 
warp and woof that make up every life has mingling 
with its threads of gold some dark unlovely tints, but 
the shuttle weaving the mysterious pattern riies back 
and forth, held and guided by an unerring Hand. He 
never cared to look back to his Chicago life, indeed 
he had forgotten most of it; he never cared to remem- 
ber it, it was too harrowing. 



frederich Cleveland 101 

His visit to the east was of short duration. He 
had had some hope of settling there once, but he 
gave it all up, and longed to be back in business in the 
west, in his own home and with his precious family. 

After a few weeks sojourn east, he left his wife and 
children with her father and went back to Chicago to 
begin the tedious search for business. The days and 
weeks went by without success. He grew despond- 
ent, and while he wrote letters of encouragement to 
his wife and pictured to her a home in the near future, 
of comfort and cheer, yet he needed constantly words 
of encouragement himself. Several positions as trav- 
eling salesman were offered him, but he steadfastly 
refused. "I have traveled much in my early years," 
he wrote his wife, "but then I did not know the com- 
forts of home life as I now do, and I cannot think of 
leaving the companionship of wife and children with 
only an occasional visit." 

In the early part of February, 1869, he purchased 
a drug store on Randolph street, in the city of Chi- 
cago, -associating with him as joint partner, his cousin, 
O. W. Snyder, formerly of Troy, N. Y., the firm name 
being known as "Cleveland & Snyder." The building 
in which the store was located not being satisfactory 
to them, they rented, on a block further east, a new 
corner store, to which they removed their stock of 
drugs a few weeks afterward. It looked very neat 
and attractive and they were very proud of their new 
store. 



102 JVIemofrs of 

He had not yet become settled when he received a 
letter from his mother from Florida informing him 
that his father had had a paralytic stroke while in a 
bathing casino at St. Augustine. They had gone 
south on account of his mother's ill health, but while 
the south had been beneficial to her it had not agreed 
with him and they were hardly able to bring him home. 

No sooner was Mr. Cleveland settled in business 
than he began to make preparation for the return of 
his family, engaging a flat near his store, not quite 
yet completed. Mrs. Cleveland had been very home- 
sick. The children had been ill all winter, and although 
friends had sought to aid and comfort her, yet she 
missed the strong arm on which she had leaned for 
more than five years. At last the trunks were packed 
and all seemed ready for the journey to Chicago. 
Mr. Cleveland had gone to his landlady, and pouring 
into her motherly ear the story of his longing for the 
homecoming of his wife and the children, she had 
consented to take them into her overflowing house- 
hold until their apartments were ready. Their little 
room had been set in order. He had put the last 
finishing touches to it himself as near as he knew how, 
surveyed it with infinite tenderness and real joy; then 
telling the landlady he would not be at breakfast in 
the morning as his wife and children would be in from 
New York at an early hour, he bade her good night 
and hastened back to his store. 

A letter from his wife awaited him and on opening 



fredertch Cleveland 103 

it, his face became livid and he sank upon a chair in 
utter despair. One of his little ones had taken malig- 
nant scarlet fever and was lying very low. She had 
written him that if the physician gave up hope she 
would let him know by telegram immediately, but if 
he had received no telegram by the time he received 
the letter the case was favorable and he must keep up 
good courage. He already knew that in the same 
neighborhood six children had been buried from one 
family in three weeks and three from another, by this 
terrible scourge, and he was in despair when he thought 
of his own little ones. A thousand miles away from 
them, he was utterly powerless to help and he well 
knew how they needed his companionship and loving 
service. He had never inclined to a sick room. It 
was not in his line of work, and yet when wife or 
children were ill, no trained nurse showed more skill 
or wisdom, he was always so gentle and untiring and 
patient in his work of love. If he were only with 
them! this seemed to be the cry of his aching heart. 
His partner and their clerk reminded him that no 
telegram having come he ought not to give up hope, 
and they sought in every way to cheer and comfort 
him, but he would not be comforted. All night long 
he walked the floor and when the early morning 
came they heard the noise of a heavy fall, and found 
him lying unconscious in the back room of his store. 
A physician was hastily summoned who said it was 
a giving out of the nervous system caused undoubtedly 



104 JVIemofrs of 

by the great strain of the last three months and the 
shock when he received the news of his little daugh- 
ter's illness. Letters from his wife came every day, 
at first with little hope and then with the joyful news 
of recovery. Then he wrote his wife of his own ill- 
ness and begged her to come immediately. But 
much as she desired to she could not come; the little 
convalescent was not able to take a step alone, the 
baby could not walk and all three children were hav- 
ing whooping cough. As soon as he was able to take 
the journey he went down to New York state and 
brought his family home. Hardly had he reached 
Chicago when he was taken very ill. It was a violent 
pain at the base of the brain, and he suffered excru- 
ciating agony. It came periodically and passing 
away after fifteen or twenty minutes it left him in a 
stupor for the same length of time. He had, perhaps, 
a dozen of these attacks in a day. He was not at 
first confined to his bed nor to the house, only lying 
down when the attacks came on, at which time appli- 
cations of ice were continually made. At the request 
of his parents he went in July to Tarrytown, N. Y., to 
be treated by his father's physician. At first the let- 
ters were very hopeful, but after several weeks he 
wrote his wife that he was coming home, and she 
must not be disappointed if he were not much im- 
proved. He needed her care he said and much pre- 
ferred his own physician to his father's. 

He was not improved by his journey nor his visit 



fredench Cleveland 105 

and he gradually lost ground until he was not able to 
leave his bed. The physician came three times a day 
from August till October, but no earthly power could 
help and no one could minister to him day and night 
but a heartbroken overburdened wife whom he could 
not have out of his sight for one moment. One 
Sabbath afternoon as the children came in from Sab- 
bath School one of them came to his bedside to show 
him her picture card. He took it up and read the 
following text from the fifty-first Psalm: "The sacri- 
fices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a con- 
trite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." "Gertie," he 
said, "there is not in all the wide world a more broken 
heart or spirit than mine; surely God cannot despise 
it! Can he?" He had now given up all hope of 
recovery and believing his last hour was drawing near 
he spoke of it to his wife. The little children were 
by his bedside and as he looked upon them with quiv- 
ering lip he said "Our little M. will never know her 
father; I doubt if K. will ever remember me; and 
even with N. there will only be a dim memory;" then 
looking up into his wife's face and taking her hand 
in his own, he said with touching pathos as he thought 
of his rapidly diminishing bank account, "O, my poor 
wife, there will be little left for you and the children 
when I am gone." But she could not let him go. 
He had not known the Lord as his Saviour yet, had 
not taken him as his Shepherd and he could not go 
"through the valley of the shadow of death" without 



106 JVUmofrs of 

him, so she held on, never once giving up hope, and 
battling for his life with almost superhuman strength. 
They were strangers in a strange land. There was no 
one to nurse him, day and night, through that long 
illness but his wife and he would have none other. 
An old Waukegan friend, Dr. J. R. Bullock, then liv- 
ing near them, frequently came in and sat by the bed- 
side, and brought them a little bit of sunshine. Other 
friends from Waukegan came down to see them and 
express their love and sympathy; among them was 
their old and beloved physician, Dr. Barker, and his 
good wife. The doctor had been very successful in 
the Cleveland family, and although he came to see 
them as a friend and not as a physician, yet at Mrs. 
Cleveland's request he diagnosed the case and his 
remedies seemed to have a wonderful effect. In 
October Mr. Cleveland's mother came on from New 
York. On the day after her arrival he seemed to be 
going on his last long journey to his eternal home. 
With loving tenderness she sought to lead him to the 
Lord. She told him of One "who loved him and had 
given himself for him," and she bade him to put his 
trust in the Saviour. She said she had given him to 
God years ago. He was a covenant-keeping God, 
she would hold him to his promises and she knew 
he would not fail her now- — would never despise a 
mother's gift. 

It was a pivotal day. Slowly but surely he came 
back as it were from the grave. But the physician 



frederfcfc Cleveland 107 

said he could not live in Chicago. The lake winds 
were too strong for him, so the mother took him and 
the family back with her to New York State, leaving 
the two older children with his wife's father. They 
spent three months at Tarrytown, then leaving his 
wife and children with her father he went back to 
Chicago to settle up his affairs there and to seek else- 
where a home for himself and his beloved family. 
Thus closes up the record of the saddest year of his 
life. Can we wonder that he never cared to look 
back upon it? The whole long year was one of pain 
and suffering, of blighted hopes and of upset plans, 
and when he came out of it there was little in the 
poor emaciated wreck to remind one of the strong, 
jovial young man who left Waukegan the year before. 

One year — one year — one little year 

And so much gone ! 
And yet the even flow of life, 

Moves calmly on. 
****** 

Lord of the living and the dead, 

Our Savior dear, 
We lay in silence at thy feet 

This sad, sad year. 

Harriet Beecher Stowe. 



io8 JYIemofrs of 



Chapter IX 



PEORIA 

From an old English parsonage 

Down by the sea 
There came in the twilight 

A message to me ; 
Its quaint Saxon legend 

Deeply engraven, 
Hath as it seems to me 

Teaching from heaven ; 
And through the hours, 

The quiet words ring 
Like a low inspiration 

" Doe ye nexte thynge." Mrs. PaulL 



The year in Chicago and the year in Peoria were 
very different in their character. The Peoria )^ear 
was a year of hard labor but a year of perfect health 
and a gradual gaining of strength day by day. 

He went back to Chicago the early part of March, 
1870. He soon succeeded in selling his interest in 
the drug business and in settling up matters there, but 
to obtain a business or a position anywhere seemed 
to be a very difficult matter, and after searching for 
several weeks unsuccessfully in Illinois, Iowa and Wis- 
consin, he grew despondent and his letters to his wife 
bore the sign of great depression and even despair. 
His means were rapidly diminishing and his father's 



frederich Cleveland 109 

health was in so precarious a state that he could not 
go to him either for counsel or for pecuniary aid. 

At last there came a letter to his wife bidding her 
come on with the children. He was going in business 
for himself, he wrote, but he did not tell what it was 
nor in what city they were to locate. About the mid- 
dle of April, 1870, she went on with her little family. 
He met them at the depot in Chicago, looking well 
and happy and on his way to their home he told her 
that he purposed going in the baking powder and 
extract business in the city of Peoria, 111. He was 
sanguine of success; his old friend, Dr. Price, of 
Waukegan, had succeeded in it and he was positive 
he should succeed. He had a most excellent form- 
ula, but they might experiment and perhaps improve 
on it. He had already hired a house in the city of 
Peoria and they would only remain in Chicago long 
enough to pack and move their furniture. Their flat 
in that city had been occupied during their sojourn at 
Tarry town, N. Y., by an old friend of the family, 
and she was now quite willing to vacate so that in 
less than a week they would leave the city for their 
new home. But his wife was not so delighted over 
the business as he was. It seemed to her a tremend- 
ous risk and she thought there could not possibly be 
enough in it to feed and clothe and educate a family. 
The old friends of Waukegan thought it a very unwise 
undertaking, and his cousin Snyder begged Mrs. 
Cleveland to talk her husband out of it. But he was 



no JVLemofrs of 

not to be talked out and she not having the heart to 
oppose him joined with him in every effort for the 
success of the business. 

About April 21, 1870, they moved to Peoria, and 
a week or so later he had all things ready to com- 
mence business. They were cosily settled in their 
new home. It stood upon the bluff, with a com- 
manding view from the back. The house was a two 
story double house with a basement in the rear. The 
grounds were quite extensive and were laid out in 
three terraces;- on the lower terrace was a peach and 
an apple orchard, and on the upper terrace was the 
cherry orchard, all in full bloom when they moved 
into the house. The trees were tall, reaching up into 
the second story windows, the fragrance of the blos- 
soms filling the sitting room. They were awakened 
morning by morning by the carol of the robins and 
all day long the air was filled with the drowsy hum of 
the bees. They had not a friend in the city. Their 
manner of living was different from the old Waukegan 
life, and even from their life in Chicago, and they 
did not care very much about making acquaintances 
— were too busy. Mr. Cleveland's health was good, 
the children were well and happy and they were con- 
tented in their home life. 

Just before leaving Chicago an event occurred 
which came very near leaving them a darkened home 
and sad hearts. In the hurry of packing and moving 
their furniture one of the little ones seemed to be con- 



f rederich Cleveland 1 1 1 

tinually getting in the way. She hindered in her 
desire to help and her father, speaking somewhat 
sharply to her, bade her leave the room instantly. 
With a quivering lip and her little heart nearly broken 
she ran out of the sitting room and went into a spare 
room which Mr. Cleveland had occupied before the 
return of his family. She had scarcely been gone ten 
minutes before she returned and seated herself in her 
little rocking chair, her face as white as marble and 
her lips blue. Presently she was taken with nausea 
and vomiting. Mr. Cleveland remembered three little 
viols of medicine (strychnia, belladonna and tartar 
emetic) which he had used the week previous and had 
left on the dresser behind some ornaments. The 
child had found the bottles but was not able to remove 
the cork from the strychnia nor from the belladonna 
bottle; she succeeded, however, in opening the bottle 
of tartar emetic and had taken enough to make her 
deathly sick. There was great commotion in the 
household. A physician was hastily summoned, anti- 
dotes were given, and the child was soon out of dan- 
ger, but a more frightened household never lived. 

About May I, 1870, Mr. Cleveland began his busi- 
ness. He left his goods in every retail store in Peoria 
and the adjacent cities, and by house to house sam- 
pling and otherwise advertising he soon created a 
demand for his goods and won a large trade. No 
sooner had he started out than he encountered com- 
petition, finding that two other large wholesale houses 



1 1 2 JVUmof rs of 

were already manufacturing the same kind of goods. 
But he was undaunted. He had not a doubt of suc- 
cess. He had a magnificent young iron-gray horse, 
whose curved neck, heavy mane and tail made him 
the admiration of the town. He was a spirited ani- 
mal and the delight of his master's heart. He had, 
also, purchased a new business wagon, painted in 
black with gold lettering, and the equipage was an 
advertisement in itself. On that first morning as he 
started out with his first shipment his wife went into 
the little east parlor of their home and kneeling down 
in that darkened room she committed her husband 
and their business into the hands of her heavenly 
Father. Almost from its very beginning it was a 
success and in it went much prayer and pluck and 
perseverance. As is ever the case when one succeeds 
there were soon many to give encouragement and 
help. The goods were manufactured in the basement 
of his house. He manufactured and sold, himself and 
one clerk labeled and mixed and shipped, and they 
both sampled. His business hours were from 6 A. M. 
to 6 P. M., and he was exceedingly weary every night, 
but no one knows how stimulating a successful busi- 
ness day is to a weary man. Every evening he drove 
out with his little family and it seemed to refresh 
them all. When he drove on a business trip he fre- 
quently took them all with him to some adjacent city. 
They took the lunch basket with them and had many 
a delightful picnic under the trees by the roadside. 



f redertch Cleveland 1 1 3 

The Peoria home was a happy home for the little 
children; they knew nothing of its hardships; -they 
lived out doors; they dined with their parents under 
the cherry trees, and their mother, notwithstanding 
her many housewifely duties, joined them in their 
play and made herself one with them. Those who 
can remember this home speak of it as one of the 
brightest spots in their child life. 

Sometime during the summer occurred an event 
which they never forgot. It was their first trip to 
Pekin by carriage. This city is situated on the east 
bank of the Peoria river about eight or ten miles south 
of Peoria city. Two miles down the Bloomingdale 
road they turned up the side of a mountain, taking a 
road cut midway between the top and the bottom of 
the mountain, along which ran the Peoria river. It 
was through a dense forest of perhaps six miles. The 
road was narrow, with here and there an excavation 
in the side of the mountain so as to permit the pass- 
ing of teams. There were three coal pits in the moun- 
tain side and only one little cabin along the lonely 
road. But the scenery was very fine. The tall forest 
trees overlocked above their heads and formed a per- 
fect arch through which they drove. The blue waters 
of the river mirrored back the mountain sides with 
their dense foliage as it purled and sung on its course 
over rock and through bend, echoing up the mountains 
like the sighing of a heart longing for a rest it knows 
not of. They had been up early in the morning so 
8 



114 Nemofrs of 

at an early hour they stopped under the trees and 
took their luncheon, while Mrs. Cleveland reminding 
her husband of the loneliness of the road, urged him 
to return home before dark. They reached the city 
about noon. Mr. Cleveland attended to business 
matters while Mrs. Cleveland and the children went 
about the city or rested at the hotel. He was delayed 
with business and it was dark before they started for 
home. Just outside the city was the cemetery — two 
long, oldfashioned headstones leaning against the 
fence attracted the attention of the horse and he 
started to run away. He ran nearly two miles before 
he was controlled and they had already reached the 
outskirts of the forest and had begun the journey over 
the dismal road. It was now quite dark; every shrub 
by the wayside looked like a crouching figure, every 
shadow like the shadow of a man stealthily approach- 
ing. The clinking of the horses' feet and the shack- 
ling of the harness grated on their ears. They sat in 
silence. As the darkness deepened they could not 
see the way. The arching foliage had hidden from 
them the light of the sky above and they had but to 
trust the horse whose restless eye was ever on the 
watch, and whose ear was open to every sound — 
whose mettle had been up to its highest key ever 
since the fright at the cemetery and could hardly be 
kept down by bit or bridle. They passed the lonely 
cabin through whose window a faint light glimmered, 
passed the coal pits whose black abyss opened before 



fvzdzrich Cleveland 1 1 5 

them like a chamber of horror. They met no one on 
this long journey, and both drew a sigh of relief as 
they drove down the mountain and turned up the 
Bloomingdale turnpike two miles from the city. This 
turnpike was built up ten or twelve feet high through 
a morass which had, undoubtedly, once been the bot- 
tom of Peoria lake. It was wide enough for two car- 
riages to drive abreast. Mr. Cleveland taking the 
north side hastened on toward home. Suddenly two 
men pushed up the embankment and seizing the horse 
by the bridle demanded of them in broken German, 
"Your gold or your life." They were clothed in blue 
army coats and caps, and they were giants in height 
and breadth, and they evidently meant business. Mr. 
Cleveland sat in front with his little son, and Mrs. 
Cleveland in the back seat with one of the little girls. 
Both children were asleep but were awakened by the 
noise and they were terrified with fear. The occu- 
pant of the back seat was quite willing to give them 
her gold or silver or anything else she possessed, but 
not so with the occupant of the front seat. He car- 
ried the purse and although its weight was by no 
means cumbersome he had no intention of giving it up 
without resistance. Rising in his seat with a shout 
to the men to let go the horse, he brought down the 
heavy silver-mounted handle of his whip upon the 
horse's back with all his might and he shot out from 
under the hands of the highwaymen with tremendous 
speed. The river is very wide near the city and is 



1 1 6 JVIemoi rs of 

crossed by two bridges — a carriage and a railroad 
bridge, crossing each other in the form of a letter X. 
It is a dangerous crossing. Fortunately there were 
no trains running out just at this time, and they never 
stopped their speed till they reached home. 

One of the drives which they dearly loved was to 
the Sulphur spring two miles from the city of Peoria. 
It was a wonderful sight throwing up its jet of water 
twenty-five or thirty feet in the air and then coming 
down like a beautiful white veil, it formed itself into 
a little brooklet coursing its way down into the 
adjoining forest, and coloring every rock and stone 
with a sulphur tint. 

With autumn came the County Fairs. It was a 
holiday week for the rich and the poor. Everybody 
patronized the fair. There were food exhibits, art 
exhibits, and fancy goods exhibits of all kinds; there 
was a manufacturers' hall, horse shows, exhibits of 
blooded stock and other exhibits too numerous to men- 
tion. It was exceedingly interesting and a profitable 
way of advertising. Mr. Cleveland had a fine exhibit in 
cakes and biscuit and bread, and his wife had a display 
of fancy work. All of which took first premiums. 

By this time he had made many friends. Mr. 
William Reynolds, a most estimable Christian gentle- 
man, standing at the head of Sunday School work in 
the west had been most helpful to him, and had shown 
himself a friend indeed, as had also Mr. Weston, their 
pastor, and Mr. John Foskett, and Mrs. and Mr. Fos- 



f rederfch Cleveland 117 

ter, who lived in the house adjoining them. They 
were delightful Christian people and their kindness to 
Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland from the first has always 
been lovingly remembered. While they were living 
in Peoria, Mr. Cleveland learned a lesson which he 
never forgot and by which he was quick to profit. 
His horse became very ill one night in the autumn 
and not knowing what to do for him he called in a 
poor man, living near, to assist him. The man worked 
faithfully and the horse was soon improved. When 
Mr. Cleveland paid him for his services he gave him 
also a glass of hot sling, telling him it was to keep 
him from taking cold and would do him good. The 
man drank the bourbon and went home. A few days 
later a friend was spending the evening with them and 
speaking of this family she told them that the man 
was a reformed drunkard, and he had had delirium 
tremens twice, but, she added, the church has taken 
him in hand and he is trying to lead a Christian life 
and has not taken intoxicants for a year. After the 
friend left Mr. Cleveland turned to his wife with a 
pitiful look of remorse on his face and said to her 
"O, if that man should go back to a drunkard's life 
because of that one glass I gave him, I shall feel that 
I am responsible for it — that his downfall lies at my 
door. If God will only forgive me and keep that man 
from falling I shall never, never again offer to any 
one a glass of anything that will intoxicate," and he 
never did. They had spent many happy months in 



1 1 8 JVEemofrs of 

Peoria. Their beloved sister, Mrs. George Cleveland, 
had visited them during the summer, bringing with her 
as she ever did wherever she went, a bit of bright sun- 
shine; and they had also had a pleasant visit from their 
cousin Snyder from Chicago. But now the reports 
from Tarrytown concerning his father's health were 
not favorable. He had had a congestive chill and was 
quite poorly. At last there came a telegram sum- 
moning him home immediately, and he started the 
same evening, but alas! he arrived too late. His 
father passed to his eternal home, November I, 1870, 
and the following letter notified Mrs. Cleveland at 
Peoria, of his departure: 

Tarrytown, Wednesday, Nov. 2, 1870. 
My dear wife: 

I arrived here this morning at five o'clock. Poor 
father is gone — died yesterday, Tuesday morning, at 
twenty minutes past six o'clock. 

Father retired last Friday night apparently in usual 
health, bade Siss good-night, the last words he spoke. 
Saturday morning he awakened quite helpless and 
speechless, and failed gradually until he died. Dr. 
Smith thinks he was not conscious of any pain in this 
last sickness. Mother has been ailing since Tuesday 
of last week. Was taken with congestion of the 
lungs and general exhaustion. She bears father's 
loss with true Christian fortitude. She is still con- 
fined to her bed, though Dr. Smith thinks her out of 
danger. She wishes me to give you her love, and to 
apologize to you for not writing you. Says the delay 




Patterson Cottage 



Greyledge 



Home in Waukegan 



f rederf ch Cleveland 119 

has not been one of purposed neglect, but that father 
has long required her constant attention, and that she 
has felt completely worn out. Says she has a very 
warm feeling in her heart for you, and wants you to 
feel that you are one of her loved daughters. * * * 
I did not give your letter to mother, did not want her 
to worry any about my health, and you know you 
made especial mention of my not feeling well of late. 
You may write her a letter of consolation whenever 
you choose. Father's funeral occurs at the house 
here on Friday at half past three o'clock. He will 
be placed in the vault on Saturday at Greenwood 
cemetery. His face wears a very peaceful, I might 
say happy, expression. Charlie is expected here to- 
morrow morning. Newcomb is coming with him, 
and mother feels sad because you could not have 
accompanied me and said I should have brought our 
son at all events. I must bid you good-night. My 
love to the children and a kiss for each. * * * 
Keep a good heart, my dear wife — cannot say, but 
shall return to you as soon as possible. 

Yours ever, 

Frederick Cleveland. 
Thus passed away from earthly scenes the father of 
Frederick Cleveland at the age of sixty-three and still 
in the vigor of manhood. He had fought a success- 
ful battle in the business w r orld and just as he had 
settled down to the enjoyment of his well earned 
fortune, the hand of disease was laid upon him and 
he soon passed away to the life beyond. 

Leaves have their time to fall 

And flowers to wither at the northwind's breath 
And stars to set — but all — 

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death. 

Mrs. Hetnans. 



120 JVIemotrs of 

Mr. Cleveland did not return for several weeks 
after his father's death. His mother's recovery was 
not rapid and on that account they were unable to 
attend to the affairs of their father's estate. In his 
letters to his wife he expressed regret that he had not 
begun his business in New York State, and, finally, 
he wrote her that on his return home he should make 
every effort to sell out and remove to the city of 
Albany, N. Y. He had looked carefully over the 
field and he thought it very favorable indeed to his 
business, both on account of the proximity of its 
towns and cities but also because of its peculiar 
shipping advantages. Soon after his return to Peoria 
in January, 1871, one of his competitors being quite 
anxious for his removal, purchased the business, but 
he reserved the right to manufacture the same any 
where except in the state of Illinois. Soon after the 
sale, in conversation with Mr. Cleveland, the purchaser 
made this remark: "Mr. Cleveland, we were not one 
bit afraid of your selling to other parties, but we 
feared you. You came in our midst an entire stran- 
ger, and you have pressed your goods in every place. 
You have attained marvellous success while we who 
have always lived and are well known in this location, 
have seen our goods shelved or excluded altogether. 
No man could have done as you have done." About 
the middle of March, 1871, they turned their faces 
eastward. It was not without real regret that they 
bade adieu to their western home. 



f rederf ch Cleveland 121 

There had been many pleasant associations con- 
nected with their life in Illinois. It was the birth 
state of their three older children. They loved the 
social element generally found in the western people, 
and the seven and a half years of their home life 
there had been very happy ones. 

As travellers oft look back at eve 

When eastward darkly going, 
To gaze upon that light they leave 

Still faint behind them glowing — 
So when the close of pleasure's day 

To gloom hath near consigned us, 
We turn to catch one fading ray 

Of joy that's left behind us. Moore. 



122 JVlemofrs of 



Chapter X 



A HOME IN THE EAST 



That hallowed word is ne'er forgot, 

No matter where we roam, 
The purest feelings of the heart 

Still cluster round the home. 

Dear resting place where weary thought 

May dream away its care 
Love's gentle star unveils her light 

And shines in beauty there. 

Fanny Crosby. 



In the latter part of March, 1871, the Cleveland 
family removed from the west and took up their resi- 
dence in the city of Albany, N. Y. The labor and 
excitement of removal had been too much for Mr. 
Cleveland, and before he had become settled and 
while visiting at the home of his father-in-law at Nis- 
kayuna, he had another attack of illness somewhat 
similar to the one he had had while in the city of 
Chicago. The friends and the physician had no hope 
of his recovery, and the future seemed dark indeed, 
to his stricken family. He had overdone in his 
efforts at househunting; had not spared himself in 
his desire to become speedily settled. He had never 
been strong since the Chicago illness, and now that 
it had returned it was not at all probable that he could 



frederfch Cleveland 123 

survive another such attack. He rejoiced to know 
that he would now leave his family in comfortable 
circumstances, but he did so want to live to see the 
dear children grown up and he had built such hopes 
on a successful business career in the city of Albany. 
Strange to say, after a few days of intense suffer- 
ing, every symptom entirely disappeared and he was 
soon about again in good health and in excellent 
spirits. They took a house in the central part of the 
city intending, as soon as they could select a location, 
to build a house according to their own plans. This 
they did a year and a half later. The Van Rensselaer 
boulevard had just been laid out and they were at 
work upon it. The location was very pleasing to 
him. He had always said that no scenery was per- 
fect without a water view and he was very much 
delighted with the view of the Hudson River from 
this wide and beautiful avenue. All through his 
remaining years he never wearied of it and during his 
long years of invalidism he would sit for hours watch- 
ing the glimmering waters, and the boats as they 
sailed up and down, especially as the New York boat 
sailed past the home, he would invariably call to some 
members of his family asking them if it were not a 
beautiful picture. In the autumn of 1871 he pur- 
chased two large lots on this avenue and in the spring 
of 1872 he began the building of his new home. Mr. 
and Mrs. Cleveland planned it out together. The 
interior was laid out very much like the old home at 



1 2 4 JVUmotrs of 

Tarrytown and the architect told them he had never 
seen a more perfectly planned house. It was nearly 
a year in building, but on the 19th of December, 
1872, and while it was in quite an unfinished state 
they moved into it. 

Two or three weeks after taking up his residence in 
Albany — in April, 1 87 1 — he began again the manu- 
facture of " Cleveland's Superior Baking Powder" and 
he was successful beyond his highest expectations. 
By his untiring energy and thorough business qualifi- 
cations he soon established his business upon a large 
and firm basis. In March, 1874, he took in with 
him his brother George under the firm name of Cleve- 
land Brothers. He was very fond of his business, had 
great expectations not only for himself but for his 
sons, whom he fondly hoped might follow him in it. 
He was a thorough business man in every particular, 
closely applying himself even after his physical 
infirmities became very great, but in 1882 or 1883 
he was compelled to give up active life and he never 
resumed it again. "Man proposes but God disposes." 
So though his business met with marvellous success, 
he was compelled through circumstances over which 
he had no control, to see it sold into other hands and 
the dream of his life that his sons might succeed to 
their father's place was never realized. It was sold 
in the autumn of 1889 and subsequently removed to 
the city of New York. 

The new home on the avenue was large and com- 



fredertch Cleveland 125 

modious and as Mr. Cleveland, like his mother, was 
given to hospitality, it was generally filled to over- 
flowing. He was never so happy as when he was 
entertaining. There was a large circle of friends and 
relatives of both his own and his wife's, and he gave 
them all a warm welcome. Although absent at his 
business during the day yet his horses and carriage 
were ever at the disposal of his guests and he was 
always at his home at night. The summer evenings 
were spent under the trees on the lawn or on the ter- 
race, and the long winter evenings in the library 
before the cheerful grate fire in pleasing conversation 
and jovial story telling. He was brimful of fun and 
his home was a home filled with sunshine. He was 
greathearted and thoughtful, thinking of the little 
things pertaining to the comforts of his visitors, at 
the same time he never ceased to show to his wife and 
children the same reverence and courtesy that he 
would show to an honored guest in the household. 
The delight of his life was to have his dear mother 
with .him in this home. A pew was selected in 
church near the speaker as "mother was hard of 
hearing" — a room was chosen in the new house to be 
mother's room because "she was slightly lame and 
would not have to ascend or descend the stairs" and 
a carriage was purchased "that was low and easy for 
mother to enter." Alas! she did not occupy the pew 
more than once or twice, and although her visits were 
delightful and were always lovingly remembered, yet 



126 



JVUmofrs of 



they were soon cut off and she was called to the 
House of many Mansions. During one of her visits, 
she said to her daughter-in-law, "I notice when Fred 
comes in to luncheon or at night the children are 
exceedingly noisy. I know he must be very weary, 
and if I were you I would keep them all quiet while 
he is at home." Mrs. Cleveland said: "But Fred 
begins the romp with them, and he is at the bottom 
of the noise himself," but her mother Cleveland 
thought not and said that she knew the noise must be 
wearing on him. Mrs. Cleveland thought that noth- 
ing was so convincing as one's own eyes so she waited 
until the carriage drove up to the door next day and 
she saw her husband alight; then she called to her 
mother and leaning over the banisters they watched 
developments. As soon as the latch key was heard 
in the door, the nursery door flew open and three 
happy children rushed down stairs "to meet papa." 
When the door opened he was transformed into a 
bear, imitating the "bearly movements ,, and making 
"beady" noises and every other noise, he began the 
capture of the group. They made marvellous efforts 
to escape and marvellous shrieks for deliverance, but 
he soon succeeded in effecting the capture, and after 
giving each one a "bearly" hug and leaving them in 
a pile on the hall floor below he started to go up 
stairs; then he saw the smiling faces of the two 
spectators at the landing above, and with a bound he 
was by their side ready to give them a greeting, and 



frederfch Cleveland 127 

saying by way of apology for a rather undignified 
scene in which he had largely figured, "You see, 
mother, when a man comes in from business, tired, 
there is nothing like a romp with the children to tone 
him up." At the same time he expected perfect 
obedience from his children and they cheerfully gave 
it. Among other guests who were especially wel- 
come at his home were his father and mother Van 
Vranken. An own son could not have been more 
thoughtful and loving toward his parents than Mr. 
Cleveland was toward the parents of his wife. He 
was sincerely attached to them and they to him. The 
old captain with his good humor and aptness at story- 
telling was great company for him and very compan- 
ionable. Remembering back for nearly eighty years 
he would entertain Mr. Cleveland by the hour with 
his earliest recollections of old Albany, its early 
inhabitants and their Dutch customs. During most of 
the years of his invalidism he insisted upon Mr. and 
Mrs. Van Vranken living with him and when each 
summer they would go back to Fernfalls, their own 
home, it was great pleasure to him to make them a 
weekly visit feeling as much at home with them as he 
did in his own house. 

In the winter of 1877 Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland took 
a trip through the south. They stopped at Tarrytown 
and made their last visit at their sister Sarah's. She 
was in perfect health then, had a beautiful family of 
children and was entertaining a house party of twelve 



128 JVIemoirs of 

guests. The old home looked very attractive and 
they received a royal welcome. About the middle 
of April, 1877, she visited the home of her brother 
in Albany, but in less than a year from their visit with 
her — on January 30, 1878 — she had gone to her 
heavenly home. A large procession of relatives and 
friends followed her to the grave and laid her to rest 
under the trees in the Sleepy Hollow cemetery. 

She was the oldest member of the Cleveland 
family, dying at the age of forty-nine. She was a 
very attractive woman, was a great favorite in 
society, had many friends among the rich and cul- 
tured, but full as many among the poor and needy, 
who venerated her memory because her hand was ever 
open to their needs. "Will you permit us to watch 
with her to-night," said a poor, weeping woman, to 
Mr. Robeson, Sarah's husband, on the night before 
the burial. "We have no money to buy flowers and we 
would like to show our respect for her memory in some 
way, for all the kindness she has shown to us and ours." 

On their way south, Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland stop- 
ped, also, in Virginia to visit with two aunts living on 
the banks of the James river and the glimpse they 
had into plantation life was very interesting to both. 

They had intended to visit Bayou Chene, La., Mr. 
Cleveland's former home, but when they reached New 
Orleans there was a great political disturbance. Two 
governors were seeking to control the affairs of state, 
and party faction ran high. Mr. Cleveland, there- 



frederich Cleveland 129 

fore, did not deem it advisable, under the circumstan- 
ces, to revisit his old home on Bayou Chene from 
which fifteen years before he had taken such uncere- 
monious leave. After a short stay in the city of 
New Orleans they took passage on a Mississippi 
steamer and after a memorable sail of nearly a week 
they reached the city of Memphis, Tenn., coming 
home by way of Chicago, Detroit and Buffalo. While 
in Illinois they made a visit at dear old Waukegan 
where the old friends seemed to vie with each other 
in giving them a welcome. Eight years had passed 
since they had left the city, and, although there had 
been some changes, most of the old friends were still 
there and they enjoyed every moment among them. 
They took many other journeys; to the White 
Mountain, Ausable Chasm, to Watkins Glen and 
along the sea coast, but no other trip was quite as en- 
joyable to them as their trip to the sunny south and to 
their old home at Waukegan. As the years went by 
the home at Greyledge became more and more dear 
to them. Mr. Cleveland had superintended the plant- 
ing of every tree and shrub and plant and they had 
grown wonderfully. Like his venerable grandfather, 
Freligh, he was a masterhand at gardening. His 
vegetables were not raised on the most economical 
plan, but he loved to watch them grow and none other 
was ever so fresh and palatable as his. The three 
youngest children were born in this home and out of 
it went the two youngest to their home in heaven. 



130 JVIemotrs of 

The home of Frederick Cleveland consisted not in 
the large and commodious building and its elegant 
furnishings and shady, well kept lawn, much as these 
were appreciated, but in the love and fellowship and 
sunshine of his family life, and in the chapters follow- 
ing we shall learn the secret of its peace. Like the 
little home at Bethany a heavenly guest had come to 
abide and His presence can cheer and brighten the 
humblest place. God bless the home! May it be to 
each one an earnest of our heavenly home beyond, 
where God, the Father, and Christ, the Elder Brother 
dwell and where the weakest disciple has a prepared 
place. 

I'm sighing for the Home-land 

My heart is aching here, 
There is no pain in the Home-land 

To which I'm drawing near. 

My Lord is in the Home-land 

With angels bright and fair, 
There is no sin in the Home-land 

And no temptation there. 

My loved ones in the Home-land 

Are waiting me to come 
Where neither death or sorrow 

Invades their holy home. 

Rev. H. R. Harvezs. 



f redertch Cleveland 1 3 1 



Chapter XI 



MOTHER IN HEAVEN 

Backward, turn backward O, Time, in your flight, 
Make me a child again just for to-night, 
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, 
Take me again to your heart as of yore. 
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you ! 
Many a summer the grass has grown green, 
Blossomed, and faded our faces between 
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain, 
Long I to-night for your presence again ; 
Come from the silence so long and so deep ; 
Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep. 

Selected. 



The year 1875, brought with it great sorrow into the 
Cleveland household. The dear mother whose loving 
presence was ever a benediction in the home of her 
son, took her journey to her heavenly home on the 
1 2th* of January, 1875. Ever dear to her children, 
she had grown doubly so in her loneliness and widow- 
hood, and they had hoped for her presence among 
them for ten or fifteen years to come, but the dear 
Savior, in whom she trusted, thought it best to call 
her up higher, and she went without a doubt or a fear 
or a misgiving. 

A letter from his sister Sarah notified Mr. Cleve- 
land of his mother's illness, and it was immediately 



132 JVlemoIrs of 

followed by a telegram summoning both her sons to 
her bedside. Of her last hours Mrs. Charles W. 
Cleveland in a letter to Mrs. Frederick Cleveland 
wrote as follows: 

"During the night of Saturday, January 2, she was 
taken with a very severe chill followed in the morn- 
ing with high fever. At first there was some appre- 
hension that the fever might prove to be typhoid, but 
in a day or two it was known that this was not so. 
We did not hear that she was sick until Wednesday 
afternoon. On Thursday morning I went quite early 
to the Sturtevant House where she was. She was 
very glad to see me, and spoke about my coming out 
on such a stormy morning; enquired about Charles 
and the children, and told me that it was something 
to be thankful for that our children kept so well. 
Then she told me about the chill she had and she 
said 'I thought my last hour had come.' I sat by her 
while Mary went to her breakfast. She spoke of 
Frederick and George, and expressed a desire to hear 
from them. 

"She had been reading in 'Light at Evening time' 
of a lady who had prayed that suffering might be sent 
to her that she might be a sharer with Christ in suff- 
ering. Mother thought it strange that any one could 
offer such a prayer. When I bade her good-bye she 
told me not to kiss her, as her throat at that time was 
quite sore so that it was painful for her to swallow 
anything whatever. She was fed beef tea. I saw 
her every day except Sunday. On Saturday evening, 
January 9, I felt that she was very sick, but on Sun- 
day, the 10th, she seemed better, and I think on that 
day she was able to sit up on the side of the bed for a 



fredertch Cleveland 133 

short time. She was also comforted by the presence 
of her sons, Frederick and George, who had come 
from Albany. Owing to illness in his family Fred- 
erick returned home on Sabbath evening never once 
dreaming of the great sorrow that was at the very 
threshold. During the long hours of Monday her 
strength gradually but surely failed. In her weak 
state her hands and fingers rested not. She was plan- 
ning and putting together, and she asked, again and 
again, if her work was right. In her wandering she 
held a handkerchief in her hand and gathering one 
side like a ruffle she held it up to try it on my dress. 

" 'There/ she said, as the hands dropped on the 
blanket, 'that is the best I can do.' She said to me 
on Saturday evening 'Yes, I know God will make it 
all right. He knows/ And in the night she said to 
Mary, in feeble tones and broken sentences 'God is 
always good, if we try, if we make mistakes God will 
know, if we make mistakes. God is good/ On 
Monday night an old friend and esteemed physician, 
Dr. Smith, came to see her, having been summoned 
by telegraph. 'Do you know me, Mrs. Cleveland/ he 
said ? 'Of course I know you/ she answered, 'do you 
know me?' And then her mind returning to the days 
when in her own home she used to make her friends 
comfortable she asked that a bed be made ready for 
the doctor, and said she thought an oyster stew would 
be nice for him. She enjoyed having little bits of 
ice put into her mouth, but she could take little nour- 
ishment. She was surely growing weaker, we could 
not help but see it, though we were so unwilling to 
believe it. 

"How pitiful it was to see those never resting hands ! 
They seemed trying to express the uneasiness of her 



134 JVLemoirs of 

mind. Mary would speak to her with every endear- 
ing name. She said to her once, ' mother, don't be 
troubled about me, I am happy.' 'If you are happy 
I am,' was the reply. But still there seemed to rest 
some burden on that gentle heart which only her 
heavenly Father could fully know. All those unspoken 
longings and desires which her lips could not utter 
were so many prayers in the ear of Him who heard 
and remembered them. George and Mary, the nurse 
and I were with her the most of Monday night. A 
little after midnight I was alone with her for a short 
time. As I sat holding her hand she said to me 'Do 
you think they will?' Her voice was so pleading 
that, though I could not know her thought I said 
'Yes, mother, I do think they will.' 'O, I think not; 
I'm afraid not, I'm afraid they will not,' she said. 
Presently as she was looking toward the wall with a 
bright animated smile she said quickly: 'See! do you 
see them — the rabbits — little white rabbits,' and she 
slowly turned her head as if she were watching them. 
It was, I think, a little before four o'clock in the 
morning that the lines of death were round her lids 
and on her cheek. She asked the nurse to sing. 
We selected the hymn she had often sung, and of 
which she had repeated some lines during the last 
hours. How could we keep from weeping when her 
voice, clear and sweet, sang the words 

"Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove, 
With all thy quickening powers 
Kindle a flame of sacred love 
In these cold hearts of ours." 

Her voice faltered in the second verse, the nurse 
finished it and then said to her, 'That will do now, 



frederfch Cleveland 135 

will it not, you are tired/ 'Yes,' she said, 'that will 
do.' In a little while Mary asked if George should be 
called. 'Yes, call him/ she said, very distinctly. In 
a few moments he was at her bedside, but she did not 
seem clearly to recognize, though I have no doubt 
she knew that he was there. About this time her 
right arm was lying quiet on the bed and her left arm 
and hand moving very little. Soon she was to lay 
aside every anxiety, soon to realize the perfect peace 
and rest of heaven. Already were the angelic mes- 
sengers there waiting only till the weary soul should 
be released. Her strength failed rapidly as the morn- 
ing dawned. She seemed unconscious of anyone 
near her though to the last hour the voice of her 
beloved Mary seemed to reach her ear. At her bed- 
side stood her three children, Frederick, George and 
Mary. Charles was there; her grandson, Newcomb, 
and myself. Dr. K. and Mr. F. were also in the 
outer room. Never did I realize before the solitari- 
ness of the last journey. With loving, aching hearts 
all around her, not one of them could reach her; not 
the strong arms of those who loved her most could 
uphold her as she entered the deep waters, but 'under- 
neath her were the Everlasting Arms' that never had 
failed her in her greatest need. The last drawn 
breath grew fainter and fainter till at last those who 
looked through tear-dimmed eyes could scarcely tell 
when the last sigh came. 

Sweetly as a tired child is hushed to sleep on its 
mother's breast did our dear mother fall asleep in 
Jesus, about half past ten on the morning of Tuesday, 
January 12, 1875. Shortly before her death, at 
Mary's request, Charles offered prayer beside her bed. 
Dr. Todd, her former pastor at Tarrytown, came in 



136 JVIemofrs of 

very soon after she had gone. He spoke words of 
comfort to the bereaved ones, and asked if he might 
kneel down and pray with us. He did so and so in 
the first hours of their great grief the thought of the 
children followed their mother's spirit heavenward. 

"The funeral services were held in the private par- 
lors of the Sturtevant House in New York City, Fri- 
day morning at eight-thirty. She was laid in a rose- 
wood casket with silver handles and plate, bearing her 
name and date of birth and death. Beautiful flowers 
were placed on the casket and around the room and 
in her hand. From her beloved Bible her old pastor 
read some favorite passages and selections marked by 
her own hand. Psalm 73:24-25 — 'Thou shalt guide 
me with thy counsel and afterward receive me into 
glory. Whom have I in heaven but thee; there is 
none upon earth I desire beside thee;' also Rev. 21, 
3d and 4th verses, especially the words: 'There shall 
be no more pain.' He imagined this world without 
death, without tears, without sorrow or crying and 
without pain. His remarks were peculiarly appropri- 
ate to mother, as for years she had probably not 
known a day free from physical suffering. He spoke 
of her patient submission to God's will; of her love 
for his word, and in closing he appealed to her 
children to love and serve their mother's God, and to 
follow her as she followed Christ. The hymn sung 
was 'Come Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove.' 

"At half past ten we took the train for Albany. We 
had a special funeral car, and mother was in the same 
car with us. At Albany her sisters and other rela- 
tives came and looked for the last time on her beloved 
face. She looked so calm and sweet lying there that 
I think none of the little children had any of that 



f rederf ch Cleveland 1 3 7 

dread of the death stilled form of their beloved grand- 
mother that so often fills a child's heart and lingers 
there for years. 

"The day was intensely cold. Mother was laid in 
the ground by father's side. ' Earth to earth, dust to 
dust, in the sure hope of a blessed resurrection.' As 
we left her there the sun was sinking in all its golden 
splendor, and shedding its radiance even on the gloom 
of the grave. Her soul was rejoicing in the beautiful 
home where there is no night, no setting sun, for the 
Lamb is the light thereof. 

Sister Belle, 

In 'Some recollections of Mother's Last Illness.' " 

On the same train which bore the beloved mother 
and her sorrowing children to the City of Albany, in 
another car was the Rev. Dr. Darling, beloved pastor 
of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Cleveland. The director, 
Mr. Tebbutts, brought him into the car to speak with 
Mr. Cleveland. Standing there beside his mother's 
casket, and looking into her sweet, dead face he heard 
words of condolence and sympathy from this saint of 
God, who told him of his own sorrow at his mother's 
death years before; who sought to give him a picture 
of the glory beyond, which was his mother's now and 
which was awaiting him bye and bye; and he said "Mr. 
Cleveland, while our parents are living we are inclined 
to think that there is still a generation between us and 
eternity, but when they are gone we know it is our 
turn next to go," and then l\e made a loving appeal to 
him to be ready when that hour should come. 



1 3 8 JVUmofrs of 

The dear mother had not lived to see the conver- 
sion of her children, but her faith in a covenant keep- 
ing God was strong. She had given them to God, 
and she said, "I know He will not fail me, and when 
I see him face to face I shall say to him : Here am I 
and the children which God hath given me." 

Thus closes up the record of a beautiful life, but 
the influence of that life will reach through the eternal 
years. She walked with God through seventy-two 
years of her earthly life. She will walk the "streets 
of gold" throughout eternity. She has laid aside the 
widow's cap for the crown of glory that fadeth not 
away; the busy hands have found their service now 
among "the harpers harping with their harps," and 
the gentle, patient voice has learned to sing the new 
song of Moses and the Lamb before the throne of 
God. 

44 In the clear morning of that other country, 

In Paradise, 
With the same face that we have loved and cherished 

She shall arise ! 
Let us be patient, we who mourn, with weeping, 

Some vanished face, 
The Lord has taken but to add more beauty 

And a diviner grace. 

And we shall find once more beyond earth's sorrows 

Beyond these skies 
In the fair city of the 'sure foundation' 

Those heavenly eyes. 
With the same welcome shining through their sweetness 

That met us here 
Eyes from whose beauty God has banished weeping 

And wiped away the tear." 



frederfch Cleveland 139 



Chapter XII 



THE LIFE IN CHRIST 

Laid on thine altar, O my Lord divine, 

Accept this gift to-day, for Jesus sake. 
I have no jewels to adorn thy shrine, 

Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make, 
But there I bring within my trembling hand 

This will of mine — a thing that seemeth small, 
And thou alone, O Lord, canst understand, 

How, when I yield thee this, I yield mine all. 

Selected. 

After the dear mother had been laid away in the 
cemetery at Albany there seemed to be no great 
change in the life of Mr. Cleveland. He became 
more and more engrossed in business life — more and 
more interested, seemingly, in the affairs of the world. 
He grew nervous, and unhappy and irritable, and 
underneath all there was an unrest that quite puzzled 
those who knew him best. There had always been so 
much of brightness and sunshine in his life, even when 
everything about him seemed dark and unpromising, 
he scarcely ever gave way to depression but hoped on 
through all. But there hung a cloud over him now, 
and he could not put it aside. The words of his faith- 
ful pastor, spoken to him beside the casket of his 
dead mother, somehow kept coming back to him, and 
he could not put them away. "It is our turn next to 



140 JVLemoirs of 

go," and he always asked himself the question "go 
where?" He knew his mother had gone to heaven. 
He had no doubt of it whatever. He always ex- 
pected to go there himself, but all the unbelief and 
wrongdoing of his lifetime rose up before him, and he 
felt how black and sin-stained his soul was, and how 
unprepared he was to stand in the presence of his 
God. 

Where would he go if the hand of death were laid 
upon him now? Would he never meet his precious 
mother again? She had prayed for him for years, 
and had sought to train him in the fear of God, but 
he had forgotten God. Four years before, during a 
severe illness, he had pledged himself if God should 
spare his life and make him a prosperous man, that he 
would forever after give Him one-tenth of his income. 
God had spared his life and prospered him, and he 
had kept his vow and given much more than one- 
tenth, but he had withheld his heart, and God wanted 
his heart first. His turn to go next, but where? The 
days and the weeks and even the months went swiftly 
by and the question was still unanswered. God had 
given him many good things in life richly to enjoy — 
a prosperous business, a beautiful home and a beloved 
family, and he had given God nothing in return. All 
the wasted years of his life rose up to condemn 
him. 

He knew there was a life of love to God into which 
he had never entered but how could he carry his sin- 



frederfcfc Cleveland 141 

stained life to Him now. The evil one whispered to 
him: "Fix up your life before you come to God; drop 
off this sin and that sin and make yourself more worthy 
before you come. Alas! how many has Satan 
beguiled by these subtle suggestions! How many of 
God's dear children have wasted years of their prec- 
ious life in waiting to fix themselves up when they 
could have served God and won many trophies to lay 
at the feet of Jesus ! Mr. Cleveland made good reso- 
lutions day after day, but, like many another who has 
tried it, it was a miserable failure. O, the unrest of a 
soul struggling and battling with the spirit of God, 
seeking to enter into God's peace by some other way, 
seeking to bring to God his own righteousness when 
he had no righteousness to bring, and not coming as a 
poor, lost sinner bringing the precious blood of Christ 
as his only plea. Weary and heavy laden he took up 
the Bible and began to search it. It had always been 
a dull Book to him. He had not read it much for 
years, but he knew it had been his mother's daily 
companion, and there might be some help for him in 
it. 

His wife watched him for some time, and then ven- 
tured to ask him if he did not think that God was 
asking him for his heart and his life. He replied, he 
did not know but he was, but he made her promise 
to say nothing about it to her pastor. She had not 
promised, however, not to speak about it to others 
and so a cousin, a lady of ardent piety, to whom they 



142 JVTemofre of 

were all very much attached was informed of Mr. 
Cleveland's depressed state of mind and his deep con- 
cern in regard to spiritual matters. She tried to lead 
him to the Lord but failing to make him see the way 
she loaned him a little book entitled: "The Way 
Made Plain," which proved to be a great blessing to 
him. 

About this time, in the autumn of 1875, they began 
a series of half hour meetings in the church, and Mr. 
Cleveland was prevailed upon to attend. It was held 
in one of the lower rooms of the chapel and there 
was quite a large attendance. At the close of the 
first service there was a meeting for inquirers in an 
adjoining room. Mr. Cleveland said the pastor spoke 
to him directly that night and looked at him when he 
gave the invitation to the inquiry meeting, but it was 
God's spirit that was dealing with him and that said 
to him "Thou art the man." At first he was unwill- 
ing to go but finally consented, his wife promising to 
go with him. The three were in the room alone 
together and the doors were closed, then the faithful 
pastor in a few simple words opened out to him the 
Way of Life, and they knelt down together in prayer. 
It was an earnest petition that he might lay aside his 
own self-righteousness and come as a lost sinner, trust- 
ing alone in the finished work of Christ. Mr. Cleve- 
land arose from his knees that night with a sense of 
his sins forgiven and with a heart filled with joy and 
gratitude to his heavenly Father. As he stepped out 



frederfch Cleveland 143 

under the dull November sky it seemed as if the very 
stars sang together of God's praise, as if- the whole 
earth was full of the glory of God. He wanted to 
tell wherever he went the good news of what the Lord 
had done for him. At the weekly meetings, among 
his friends and relatives, he gave a beautiful testimony 
of God's saving mercy and power. He was a frequent 
visitor at his pastor's study, sitting at his feet and 
learning of things pertaining to the Kingdom. Of 
him it could have been said as was said of the Apostle 
Paul: " Behold he prayeth." He was a firm believer 
in prayer. He carried everything to God; all mat- 
ters pertaining to his business, to his home life or to 
the church of Christ. Nothing was too small to bring 
to the Lord. Like Daniel, he opened his windows 
toward Jerusalem, morning, noon and night. There 
was one room into which he went for prayer, and the 
smallest child in the household knew when that door 
was closed, that "papa was in the prayer room talking 
with God." As he was methodical in everything he 
was also methodical in his prayer life. While he 
made certain petitions day by day yet he also had 
special days for special objects. On Sabbath evening 
was the hour for prayer for his brothers and sisters 
and their descendants and he never forgot one, bring- 
ing them all to the Lord by name. Sometime after 
he was stricken with paralysis he went to Lakewood, 
N. J., to visit his oldest daughter in company with his 
daughter Maude. Mrs. Cleveland and their youngest 



144 JVlemofrs of 

son had been to Florida by way of the sea but they 
were expected to meet together in New York City 
and go on to spend Easter at Lakewood. A violent 
storm raged along the coast and the vessel was forty- 
eight hours late, indeed, there was so much in the 
papers about the storm and wrecks and disasters that 
the family at Lakewood were quite uneasy. They 
kept it from Mr. Cleveland as long as they could but 
he soon learned the state of things, became very much 
alarmed and as night came on he refused to retire, 
preferring to remain up and wait for reports. Fear- 
ing the consequences of a sleepless night his daughters 
prevailed upon him to retire and he reluctantly did so. 
When Mrs. Cleveland reached Lakewood at noon on 
Sabbath he told her of his anxiety and he said 
" Mamma, I did not want to retire last night when you 
were in such trouble, but they insisted on it, so I just 
asked God to spare you to me and bring you back 
safely if it was his will and if it was not his will, I 
asked Him if He would not please take me too, and 
then I went to sleep. 

Immediately after his conversion he instituted his 
family altar. It was a solemn hour when he gathered 
his family about him and they for the first time heard 
his voice in prayer. The subdued look on the little 
child faces as they bent their little golden heads, and 
the holy stillness of that first hour can never be for- 
gotten. Dr. Talmage says that a child brought up 
beside the family altar may curve out of track, but it 



frederfch Cleveland 145 

is almost sure to curve in again. It is the church 

in the house and there is no better place to begin 

the pathway of life than at this place where the 

father is priest, and prophet and king; the one who 

teaches the little feet the right path and the one who 

reigns as king in his own home with the sceptre of 

love. God's blessing cannot but follow the child who 

has been prayerfully borne in the arms of faith to 

the feet of Jesus, and the hallowed influence of that 

morning hour will be remembered long after the parents 

have mouldered into dust. The sacred fires of this 

family altar have never gone out. Two little golden 

heads have long since worn a crown of glory, and 

three dear children have gone into homes of their 

own. Many a time the parents were alone at home, 

but the father of the household called for the family 

altar, and said "Come, mamma, let us have family 

worship even if we are alone," and she knelt beside 

the invalid's chair and with arms encircling each other 

they committed themselves, their children and their 

children's children to a covenant keeping God. The 

invalid's chair is empty now but the odor of incense 

that went up from that chair, has long ago reached 

the throne of God, and though the voice is silent in 

the grave it will continue to ascend throughout all 

eternity. 

One night during the long years of invalidism he 

was very restless and murmuring in his sleep, his wife 

leaned over to hear what he was saying. It was the 
10 



146 J^etnofre of 

little prayer learned when a child at his mother's 
knee: 

"Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep, 
If I should die before I wake 
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take, 
If anything should happen me 
I pray Thee, Lord, to waken me." 

The Sabbath in this household was the sweetest day 
in all the week. He was always at the morning ser- 
vice and at the Sabbath School with his entire family, 
each little child learning to sit quietly in church 
before it was three years old. 

The Sabbath afternoons and evenings were spent 
in reading to the children; playing Sabbath plays, or 
in telling stories from the Bible or some good book, 
and it usually closed at seven o'clock — the children's 
hour for retiring — by a little prayer service, a short 
text of scripture from those who were old enough to 
learn it, a short prayer from each one and a little child 
song. Thus the days went by. Sweet and beautiful 
days of communion in the home, and fellowship with 
Jesus. Will they never come back to us again, those 
precious, precious days? Will we never see those again 
whom we have loved and rejoiced in, in our earthly 
homes; over whose faces we have seen the whiteness 
of death stealing and whose beloved forms we have 
laid away in the silent tomb? Are all these perished? 
All the God given loves and relationship, all the 
friendships and fellowships of this life passed away? 



fredertch Cleveland 147 

In all the wonders of the nineteenth century no master 
mind has ever opened the gate of heaven and given 
us a glimpse of the vanished faces nor brought to our 
longing ears the sound of the voice that is stilled. 
But faith looks forward to the day not far distant 
when all the broken links shall be brought together, 
when the vanished faces shall come before our longing 
vision and the silent voices shall again ring in our ears. 

"Not changed but glorified! O beauteous language 

For those who weep, 
Mourning the loss of some dear face departed, 

Fallen asleep, 
Hushed into silence, never more to comfort 

The hearts of men ; 
Gone like the sunshine of another country 

Beyond our ken. 
Oh, faithless heart, the same loved face transfigured 

Shall meet thee there ; 
Less sad, less wistful, in immortal beauty, 

Divinely fair. 
The mortal veil washed pure with many weepings 

Is rent away, 
And the great soul that sat within its prison 

Hath found the day." 



148 ^Icmofrs of 



Chapter XIII 



ACTIVE SERVICE— SUNDAY SCHOOL 

WORK 

' ' No service in itself is small, 

None great, though earth it fill : 
But that is small that seeks its own 
And great that seeks God's will." 

On the first day of February, 1876, Mr. Cleveland 
united with the Fourth Presbyterian Church of 
Albany, N. Y., under the pastorate of the Rev. Dr. 
Henry Darling. At first he felt afraid to step out 
into active service, feeling his own incompetency 
owing to his lack of the knowledge of the Word of 
God. He joined a Bible class and was enjoying it 
very much when he received an invitation to become 
the leader of a class of young ladies, and after much 
thought and prayer he accepted. It seems to be 
God's way, first to give His willing and waiting disci- 
ples a vision of God, and with the vision to open his 
ears to hear the voice of God before he is ready to do 
the work of God. 

When Isaiah had his vision of God sitting upon the 
throne amid the Seraphim and he saw his own utter 
unfitness for the service, God opened his ears to hear 
the voice and when he heard the voice of the Lord 
saying "Whom shall I send?" he answered, "Here am 
I, send me." When Ezekiel saw visions of God 



fredertch Cleveland 149 

through the open heavens, as he stood by the river 
Chebar, he heard the voice of God and it said unto 
him, "Son of man, I send thee to the children of Israel 
to a rebellious nation that hath rebelled against 
me# * * * J have made thee a watchman." 
When the beloved John, "a prisoner on the isle that 
is called Patmos," looking up through tear-blind eyes 
for a glimpse of his heavenly home, had a vision of 
the glorified Jesus, he fell at his feet as one dead and 
he heard the voice of Jesus and it said unto him, 
"Write the things which thou hast seen, and the things 
which are, and the things which shall be hereafter," 
and he has given them to us in the Book of the Reve- 
lation. So this disciple of Jesus Christ when he had 
the vision of the Lord as his Saviour, and had heard 
the voice of the Lord, was willing to go anywhere and 
everywhere that he might only do His work. 

While we would not, in rebellion, question God's 
way, yet we cannot help but wonder why He should 
so soon have laid aside from active service this willing 
worker of His in early manhood, in the best years of 
his earthly life. It must have been His wish that he 
should serve Him in patient waiting and in loving 
submission to His will, and none could have served 
better. He loved his class dearly. They were often 
brought by him to the Lord in prayer, and he sought 
in every way to prepare the lessons for the week. He 
always awakened at an early hour in the morning and 
as early as five o'clock the table was drawn up to the 



I 50 JVUmofrs of 

bedside and with Bible and lesson helps in hand he 
would study for nearly two hours before the family 
had arisen. He kept this class over seven years and 
until physical weakness compelled him to resign in 
1883. After this, however, his health being improved 
he accepted the leadership of a Bible class of men 
and women at the Baptist Mission, a little chapel not 
far from his home. They were nearly all Christians 
in this class earnestly desiring the deepening of 
spiritual life, and the fellowship together was very 
helpful to him. Two years after taking this class his 
health utterly gave out and he was never able to do 
anything more in Sunday School work. The writer 
of this memoir has always felt that Mr. Cleveland was 
deeply appreciated by both classes. A beautiful 
ebony cabinet still hanging upon the parlor wall was 
given him by the church class, and also a gold and 
pearl handled pen in token of their appreciation, and 
when he received an anonymous letter asking him to 
resign the Bible class at the Baptist Mission, the whole 
class came up in a body comforting and encouraging 
him in his work, and begging of him not to give them 
up, insisting that it was written by no member of the 
class and no personal enemy of his, but by some one 
opposed to the work of the Mission, so he remained 
with them until the hand of disease was laid upon him 
and he was compelled to resign. 

Nothing ever kept him, however, from individual 
work. The Master thought it not too small a work 



f rederfch Cleveland 151 

to preach the gospel to one alone. In the dead of 
night, with no audience save the inquiring Nicode- 
mus he preached a clear plain sermon on regeneration 
in the 3d of John, and at the well of Sychar he met 
the woman of Samaria and preached to her a sermon 
on the Water of Life. So this disciple of Jesus 
Christ, long after his feeble health took him away 
from active service sought to present the unsearchable 
riches of Christ to relative and friend and all who 
came into his home. 

The first trophy he brought to lay at Jesus' feet 
was the man who drove him to the half hour prayer 
meeting where he himself first found Christ. For 
more than twelve and a half years he received mas- 
sage treatment. During the hour he would frequently 
talk with the men who attended him about the love 
of Christ and try to lead them to love and serve Him. 
One man with tears running down his cheeks said of 
Mr. Cleveland after he had gone to heaven, "He is 
the only man who ever spoke to me about my soul." 
During his journey south in 1877 he carried a large 
number of booklets or tracts written by the Rev. Dr. 
Darling entitled, "Doing nothing but receiving," and 
wherever he went he would hand in the little tract 
with a pleasant smile and helpful word. He never 
"nagged" or obtruded. It came natural for him to 
talk of his Master, for "out of the abundance of the 
heart the mouth speaketh." While he was always 
ready to take his place as leader of the Young Peo- 



152 jviemotrs of 

pie's Prayer Meeting at the church, yet he was, also, 
always pleased to take his turn with others as leader 
of the Sabbath evening meetings at Loudonville, a 
suburban village near his home. The meetings there 
were largely attended and deeply interesting. Many 
of the prominent leaders have gone to their heavenly 
home and the meetings have long ago been disbanded, 
but they were blessed meetings for Mr. Cleveland, and 
there he first learned to take active part either as 
leader or to give testimony or offer prayer. Among 
the many with whom Mr. Cleveland laboured was an 
uncle of Mrs. Cleveland's — an aged man, ill and uncon- 
verted. They had spent a very pleasant day at Nis- 
kayuna and Mr. Cleveland had talked with him on the 
all important subject, but as they were about to part 
he turned and kissing him on the old wrinkled fore- 
head he was moved to tears, and he said to him, 
" Uncle, if you and I never meet again, how will it be 
with your soul?" and the old man said, "I shall not 
be here long Fred, but I am not afraid, for I can say, 
'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me. 
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." When Mr. 
Cleveland visited that home again there was a new 
made grave back of the village church, and a vanished 
face out of the homestead. The last words they spoke 
together were of the King Eternal and to-day they 
are standing together in His presence — "Forever with 
the Lord." 



fredertch Cleveland 153 



Chapter XIV 
ACTIVE SERVICE— HYMNOLOGY 

There is no little, and there is no much 
We weigh and measure and define in vain 

A look, a word, a light responsive touch — 
Can be the minister of joy or pain. 

Susan Coolidge. 

From the time of Mr. Cleveland's conversion until he 
was laid aside by illness it was his good pleasure, as 
he was reading God's Word, to write down certain 
texts of Scripture and around them to gather some 
thoughts of his own which he formed into rhyme and 
would frequently use as hymns of praise or prayer or 
exhortation. It is to be regretted that so few of them 
have been preserved, but this chapter contains some 
gathered from an old memorandum book written in 
1876 or 1877. He was not particularly fond of music 
and -could do very little singing but his voice was 
always heard and he made melody in his heart unto 
the Lord at least. Perhaps hymnology was not his 
vocation, but the words of his hymns express the 
thoughts of his heart; therefore, in writing his life we 
think it best to publish some of them at least, although 
they were published in the different Christian papers 
at the time they were written. We give them below 
as they were found in the memorandum book. 



I 5 4 JVUmotrs of 

Rejoicing in God. 

'Ye rejoice with joy unspeakable." i Peter 1:8. 

Praise God we need no journey go, 

Nor must we suffer pain, 
Nor aught of worldly goods bestow, 

A Christian's joy to gain. 

This joy how great can ne'er be told, 

Nor e'er its rapture known 
Save in the hearts of those who hold 

It precious as their own. 

This joy our Saviour's is to give, 

His is the dear bought right, 
Bought on the cross our right to live 

Rejoicing in His sight. 

This joy our God — O Love Divine! 

Would freely give to all 
If every heart were truly thine 

Obedient to thy call. 

The date of the writing of these verses is not given, 
but they were supposed to have been written soon 
after his conversion, as it seemed at that time as if 
his whole heart was filled with that unspeakable joy of 
which he wrote. Later on we get the following verses 
entitled: 



f redertch Cleveland 155 

In the Harvest Field for Jesus 

By Frederick Cleveland 

"Lift up your eyes and look upon the fields; for they are white 
already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages and 
gathereth fruit unto life eternal." St John 4:33-36. 

■ And the Spirit and the bride say, come. And let him that 
heareth say come. And let him that is athirst come. And who- 
soever will, let him take the water of life freely." Rev. 22: iy. 

The harvest ripe, declares our King 
And fondly bids us with us bring 
Whoever will, to work the field, 
And gather in the fruitful yield. 

Ye strong in faith, haste to the field! 
Proudly you can the sickle wield; 
For thus you can secure employ 
In work that yields eternal joy. 

Come younger ones, of eager mind! 
You may with joy both rake and bind, 
Or carry sheaves: come join our band 
And to the work lend willing hand. 

Come children too, the water take, 
The cooling draught the thirst to slake 
Of all who toil. Be not dismayed, 
God's work for you will not be stayed. 

For harvest work the world's our field; 
Repentant souls our fruitful yield; 
God's word the sickle ever bright, 
God's people all may wield with might. 



156 JYIemotre of 

Oh ! let us reap, and have great care 
That with Christ's love we bind in prayer 
Each heart we bring Immanuel 
To drink the joys no tongue can tell. 

Chorus. 

Obey the call! there's work for all 
In the harvest field for Jesus. 

Let us this day 

Without delay 

Begin our part 

With earnest heart 
In the harvest field for Jesus. 

For He'll reward 

Assures His word 

All who are true, 

Whate'er we do 
In the harvest field for Jesus. 

Albany, N. Y. 

It is uncertain whether this hymn was ever pub- 
lished but the following one appeared in the Sunday 
School Times in 1876: 

Comfort from the Word 

By Frederick Cleveland 

My Maker's Promise 
"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I 
am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I 
will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." Is a 
41:10, 



f rederl ch Cleveland 157 

My Prayer 

If ever called through life to roam 
In distant lands, to leave my home 
And loving friends, so dear to me 
May this my sweet assurance be ; 
I'll take, my God, Thy word with me 
"Fear thou not; for I am with thee." 

If on the sea, storms overtake me, 
If all other hopes forsake me, 
E'en though shipwrecked, and I alone, 
Am cast on shores to all unknown 
May I, thus tried, still trust Thy word 
"Be not dismayed; I am thy God." 

When tempted oft — as oft I've been — 
By deed or thought, to yield to sin; 
If tried beyond my strength to bear, 
I'll ask Thee, God, in fervent prayer, 
To give the aid thus promised me 
"Fear not; for I will strengthen thee." 

Knowing, O God! Thy love for me 
In thankfulness I would love Thee 
With all my heart; and if I fail 
In warmth of love, may then prevail 
This word of Thine in aiding me: 
"Fear thou not; for I will-help thee. " 



158 Memoirs of 

With Thy right hand of righteousness, 
I pray Thee, God, my soul to bless; 
That I may have no fear of death; 
But let me ask with dying breath 
Fulfillment of Thy word to me : 
"Fear thou not; I will uphold thee." 

Another hymn is written but uncopied on the same 
thought although there is no foundation text given 
and the subject is: 



Jesus Our Friend 

By Frederick Cleveland 

Jesus, our friend! What need we fear? 
Why be dismayed when He is near, 

To cleanse us from all sin? 
He'll add more joy when we are glad, 
And comfort give when we are sad 

If we but trust in Him. 

What friendship then to us is given 
With Jesus, friend for earth or heaven 

If we accept His love? 
Let not this life's mere transient toys 
Defraud us of eternal joys 

With Him in realms above. 



frederfch Cleveland 159 

If winds adverse upon us blow, 

If wealth's kind waves far from us flow, 

And earthly friends depart; 
Or if health fails, He'll still be near 
And in His love will comfort — cheer 

And needed strength impart. 

And when our life draws near its end, 
Blessed are they who then depend 

On Jesus' love alone; 
With His strong arm to lean upon 
All fear of death will then be gone 

Twill be rest — peace and home. 



At our heart's door He stands and knocks; 
Let each one haste unbolt its locks, 

And welcome in its King. 
Let none seem like to Beth'lem's Inn 
So full there is no room for Him 

Who doth salvation bring. 



In the following hymn he seems to have been 
occupied with thoughts of the Trinity. In the early 
part of his Christian life he seemed to try to reason 
out this doctrine; but seeing how unsatisfactory, how 
unhelpful and how impossible it was to reason out, he 
just took 1 John 5:7 and rested on God's word. 



160 JVIemofrs of 

11 1 and my Father are One." St. John 10:30 

4< But the Comforter which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father 
will send in my name, he shall teach you all things." St. John 
14:26. 

"For there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the 
Word, and the Holy Ghost: and these three are One." 1 fohn^:y. 

The Trinity 

Omnipotent Thou art 

Oh God! Thou canst impart 

Life with Thy word. 
Great worlds before Thee fall, 
And each obeys Thy call 
Thou rulest over all 

Their Sov'reign Lord. 

Thou Omnipresent One, 
Only begotten Son, 

Saviour Divine, 
May Thy blood shed for us 
Atonement glorious 
In endless love bind us 

Forever Thine. 

Omniscient Spirit now 
To Thee we humbly bow; 

May we confide 
Our all into Thy care ; 
Dictate our ev'ry prayer, 
And may Thy counsels fair 
, Be all our guide. 



frederfch Cleveland 161 

Thou God, Triune, dost know 
Our wants before we do. 

Thy searching eye 
Our every act dost see; 
Our thoughts ne'er hid from Thee; 
May we from fears be free; 

For Thou art nigh. 



When we sleep life away 
In Thy great love, we pray 

Thou'lt waken us 
To life nearer Thy throne 
For merits, not our own, 
But through Thy name alone 

Thou Blessedness. 

July 12, 1876. 

The next hymn in the memorandum book is a call 
to come to the House of God — a bugle note to the 
unconverted to come to Jesus. It is as follows: 



"Also the sons of the strangers, that join themselves to the 
Lord, to serve him, and to love the name of the Lord, to be his 
servants, every one that keepeth the Sabbath from polluting it, 
and taketh hold of my covenant ; 

Even them will I bring to my holy mountain, and make them 
joyful in my house of prayer: their burnt offerings and their 
11 



1 62 JVIemofrs of 

sacrifices shall be accepted upon mine altar; for mine house shall 
be called an house of prayer for all people." Isaiah 56:6-7. 



Come to the House of Prayer 

Come to the house of prayer 
Come and find rest from care 

Come sinner, come; 
Come enter in the race 
To reach God's throne of grace 
And gain in His embrace 

A heavenly home. 

Make haste amend your ways, 
Wait not for better days 

To seek the Lord; 
To-morrow's sun may see 
You in eternity; 
Think now what then shall be 

Your just reward. 



Come join us in our prayers 
And learn what joy is theirs 

Who serve the Lord. 
Come share this joy with us, 
Free gift, most glorious 
To all who love Jesus 

And trust his word. 



frederfch Cleveland 163 

Come give your heart to Him 
He'll cleanse it from all sin 

In His own blood; 
Thus freed from death's dread sting, 
Join with us as we sing 
Hosannas to our King. 

Our Sov'reign God. 



August, i8j6. 



The thoughts of the next hymn are gathered from 
the Lord's prayer and read thus: 



Our Father, who in heaven art 

Wilt Thou thy righteousness impart 

Unto our souls? a living fire 

Creating there increased desire 

That with each thought while here below 

We may in truth Thy name hallow. 



Jesus, Saviour, God's blessed Son 
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done 
Always on earth as 'tis in heaven. 
May now to us this grace be given 
With love to Thee to search Thy word 
That we may learn to please Thee, Lord, 



164 Nemofre of 

Holy Spirit, mayst Thou indeed 
Supply to us our daily bread, 
And in Thy love be Thine the care 
To teach us all to pray this prayer 
Forgive our debts long as we live 
As we our debtors do forgive. 

Thou great Jehovah, Three in One, 

Lead us away from all that's wrong; 

Save us from evil every hour; 

For Thine's the kingdom and the power; 

Almighty God whom we adore 

Be Thine all glory ever more. 

In the following lines, are some thoughts which he 
had gathered while reading "The parable of the sower" 
and he has prefaced this hymn with the question 

Which Heart is Mine ? 

By Frederick Cleveland 

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I 
will give you rest." Matt. 11:28, and 
The parable of the Sower. Luke S:j-ij. 

Jesus doth sow life's blessed seed, 
As from His lips these words proceed, 
Inviting all by sin oppressed: 
''Come unto me, -I'll give you- rest" 



frederfch Cleveland 165 

Oft falls this seed in wayside hearts, 
Which hear the word, but Satan's arts 
Steal it away; lest they believe 
And should eternal life receive. 



And oft-times too, in hearts of stone 
These words with joy themselves enthrone 
But gain no root, and in the day 
Of great temptation fall away. 

They even reach hearts filled with cares; 
With worldly pleasures. Choked with tares 
And thorns of life — these words will give 
No soul a hope beyond the grave. 

But then in hearts honest and good 
Finding deep root, they grow the food 
Which yields great joy and makes them bold 
To bring more fruit — a hundred fold. 

Let each soul ask, which heart is mine? 
If not the last let grace be thine 
To pray God will to thee impart 
The faith that gives a change of heart. 



April, i8yy t 



1 66 JVLcmofrs of 



Chapter XV 



ACTIVE SERVICE— RULING ELDER 



<4 My life is not my own, but Christ's, who gave it, 
And he bestows it upon all the race ; 
I lose it for his sake, and thus I save it ; 
I hold it close, but only to expend it, 
Accept it, Lord, for others, through thy grace." 



In the years 1878, 1879 and 1882 Mr. Cleveland 
served faithfully as trustee in the church of his choice, 
but on the 12th of May, 1884, he was elected to the 
eldership and on June 8, 1884, he was ordained. 
Before his election to this most honorable and 
responsible position a number of his friends informed 
Mrs. Cleveland of their desires and intentions toward 
him, and asked her to find out what he thought about 
it. Accordingly very early one morning as they 
were talking over church matters together Mrs. Cleve- 
land said to him "What would you do supposing they 
wished to elect you elder?" "But," he said, "my 
dear wife, it is not a supposable case!" She said, "I 
don't know about that, but what if it were? What 
would you say?" "Well," he answered, "they would 
never choose me," then after a pause — "You know 
me, Gertie, better than any one else, and you certainly 



fredertch Cleveland 167 

don't think I'm good enough for the office, do you?" 
That night he was elected, and no man ever felt the 
responsibility more than he did. He took the Bible 
as his guide book, reading over and over again the 
Epistles of Paul to Timothy, and praying for grace 
and strength to walk faithfully with God. One of the 
duties that devolved upon him was the duty of vis- 
iting. A certain district was apportioned each mem- 
ber of the Session and Mr. Cleveland's district was on 
the east side of the river, in the villages of Bath, 
East Albany and Greenbush — now Rensselaer. He 
attended for a while to all the duties of his office, but 
as his infirmities increased he was compelled to give 
up his evening meetings with the Session, although 
the duty of visiting he did not resign until a short 
time before his death. Winter and summer, spring 
and fall, he went about his little parish, speaking a 
word here and there, sometimes carried into the homes 
by an attendant, thus showing to those who learned 
to look for his coming how sincere he was in the ser- 
vice of God and how desirous to be found faithful in 
the path of duty. Why he was given that district he 
never knew, except, having horses and carriage, the 
good brethren thought he could more easily cover the 
ground, but much of the ground could not be reached 
with horses and carriage. In winter it was extremely 
cold and icy and dangerous to travel, and in spring 
and fall the mud was very deep There were no 
pavements at the time and it seemed as if some of 



1 68 JVTemotrs of 

the streets had no bottom. The parishoners — some 
at least — frequently changed their residence and they 
needed constantly to be hunted up. As Mrs. Cleve- 
land was always with her husband, the searching 
usually fell upon her. One day after she had searched 
through several places difficult of access, she came 
down a side street and found the carriage was not in 
waiting. After searching for some time she found 
the carriage mired down to the hub in a lower street, 
the horses unharnessed and several men were knee 
deep in the mud trying to lift the carriage out with 
Mr. Cleveland in it. He was never able to see the 
ludicrous side of this scene; he felt like Bunyan's 
man in the slough of despond and did not join in his 
wife's merriment until he was safely home. In one of 
the homes where he loved to call was an old Scotch- 
man, probably one of the oldest members of the church, 
since gone home. He had lost wife and children, 
but was tenderly cared for by his two grand-daughters, 
both of them members of the Episcopal Church, and 
their rector kindly visited him. The visits were very 
much appreciated, but the old man longed to be in 
his own "Kirk" (Presbyterian) and to talk with people 
of his own faith, so Mr. Cleveland had many a pleas- 
ant talk with him, giving him news of the church and 
the people and carrying him religious papers and 
tracts. There was no pastor more beloved in this dis- 
trict than was the Rev. Charles Wood, for five years 
pastor of the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Albany. 



frcderfch Cleveland 169 

He went in and out among them with a loving word 
and helping hand, and though young in years, he was 
thoughtful and practical and a true shepherd of the 
flock over whom the Holy Ghost had made him over- 
seer. The last Session meeting Mr. Cleveland attended 
was when his pastor, Dr. Raymond, gave in his resig- 
nation. Mr. Cleveland was astounded and felt quite 
depressed on his return to the hotel where he and his 
family were spending part of the winter. He told 
his pastor that he had hoped he would remain with 
them until after he had gone to heaven ; for, he said, 
"since Dr. Darling's death I have always desired you 
to take charge of my funeral services." Dr. Ray- 
mond replied that he hoped he would not need such 
a service for a long time but if he did he was not far 
away and would come whenever he was sent for. 
Among the elders was a "brother beloved" who had 
been with Cleveland Bros, as clerk for many years. 
As he was ordained to the eldership by the laying on 
of hands Mr. Cleveland stood by and reaching out his 
palsied hand he tried to place it upon the head of his 
friend, but he could not reach it, and a look of sorrow 
came over his face; instantly someone perceiving his 
efforts took the hand and drew it forward until it 
rested upon the head, and a grateful expression lit up 
his face. To the very last he was in his chair at the 
communion table, sitting next to his pastor, a look of 
infinite peace and joy on his face, and his eye wan- 
dering continually to the pew where sat his own 



170 JVIemotrs of 

beloved family, so many of whom joined him in this 
solemn service. 



O blessed fellowship divine! 

joy supremely sweet! 
Companionship with Jesus here 
Makes life with bliss replete. 

In union with the purest one 

1 find my heaven on earth begun. 

I know his sheltering wings of love 
Are always o'er me spread, 
And tho' the storms may fiercely rage 
All calm and free from dread, 
My peaceful spirit ever sings, 
• ' 1*11 trust the covert of thy wings." 

Mary D. James. 



f rederich Cleveland i 7 1 



Chapter XVI 
THE STORY OF TWO LITTLE LIVES 

There is no flock however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there. 
There is no fireside howsoe'er defended 

But has one vacant chair ! 

This world is full of farewells to the dying 

And mournings for the dead ; 
The heart of Rachel for her children crying 

Will not be comforted ! 

Longfellow. 

The year 1882 was a memorable year in the home 
at Greyledge. Hitherto everything had run smoothly. 
The two younger children were in a French kinder- 
garten; the two oldest daughters were in the Ladies' 
Academy, and the oldest son was about to graduate 
at the Boy's Academy and would enter college in the 
autumn. There was still one at home, the little 
golden-haired, blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked Edith. The 
family ties had thus far been unbroken. The dear 
children that made the home so full of life and sun- 
shine were well and strong and promising and no one 
saw the shadow gathering about them. 

Early one morning on the 6th of May, 1882, there 
came a pitiful cry from the nursery. Little Edith 
was ill, she was feverish and nauseated and did not 



172 >Iewotre of 

care to play about as usual, but she was dressed, 
however, and went down to prayers and breakfast, 
sitting on her mother's lap, but eating nothing. When 
the doctor came she was pleased and happy to meet 
him and ran out into the dining room for glasses for 
her medicine. She was very ill and restless all Sat- 
urday night but seemed to be somewhat better on 
Sabbath morning. That afternoon, as they gathered 
into the sitting room an unbroken family for the last 
time to hear the Bible stories, dear little Edith lost 
her interest in picture and story for the first time and 
preferred to rest in her mother's arms. There passed 
another restless night and when the morning dawned 
and the physician came, he was startled beyond meas- 
ure and pronounced the disease "malignant diphthe- 
ria," The case was very severe, affecting throat and 
mouth and nostrils and the physician had no hope 
from the beginning. Mr. Cleveland would not give 
up hope. It did not seem possible to him that she 
could die. She was the perfect picture of health and 
during the three short summers of her little life she 
had never been ill a day. On Tuesday night — her 
last on earth — she suffered intensely. The restlessness 
that preceded death began at eight o'clock in the 
evening, lasting until one o'clock on Wednesday morn- 
ing. She would beg of her mother to carry her, then 
she would beg to lie on the bed, but when laid upon 
the bed she would roll the little pain-racked body over 
and over till she reached the other side and then she 



frederfcfc Cleveland 173 

would plead to be laid in her crib. So the night 
passed away until after midnight when the whiteness 
of death passed over her face and she fell into a 
quiet sleep. They had never seen death in that home 
and the mother lay down with a faint hope in her 
heart and slept for an hour, awakened by a pitiful cry 
from the crib and rising she found the coldness of 
death spreading over her child. The physicians were 
hastily summoned but each one gave the same reply: 
"There is no earthly hope." 

Just before she died she slipped down from her bed 
and running toward her father she said to him in 
pleading accents, "Papa! Papa! I want my dolly I" 
He brought her the doll and laid it in her arms but 
already she was too far gone to care for anything in 
this world. Occasionally as some pleading voice 
called her name and begged of her to speak to them 
she would open her eyes and look wonderingly into 
their tearful faces, retaining consciousness till the last 
moment. At five minutes past one the little spirit 
went to God who gave it. As she lay in her casket 
there seemed to be but little about her to remind one 
of death; her cheeks had hardly lost their color; one 
little arm held closely to her pulseless heart the doll 
she had so earnestly pleaded for in her dying hour, 
and a dimpled hand held a few pansies, as though in 
her journey to heaven she had stopped to gather a 
few flowers on the way. On May 11, 1882, "They 
took up the body and buried it and went and told 



174 JVUmofre of 

Jesus." He knew their sorrow and He only could 
bring them help and comfort 

In the new plot in the Albany Rural Cemetery is a 
granite slab bearing the following inscription: 
"Born Wednesday, June 25th, 1879 
And on Wednesday, May 10th, 1882 
She was not for God took her." 

" A little grave, 
Where the first dewdrop wakes, and grasses bowing 

Unresting o'er her rest, their vigil keep 
And the last leaves of autumn fall unknowing 

What lies so far below in dreamless sleep 

* * * * 

Yet she is ours ; 
The mysteries of the valley intervening 

Have grown less dim since she went safely through, 
The harmonies of heaven have deeper meaning 

Because our darling learns to sing them too. 

* * # # 

O shortning years, speed onward and discover 
How brief the pathway to that open door, 

Where she will wait to welcome those who love her, 
And we shall find once more 
Our baby." 

While Mr. Cleveland did not murmur at God's will, 
he could not but wonder at the mystery of his way. 
He had given his child to God at her birth for some 
special work and God had answered his prayer for her 
but in His own way, and not as he had expected. 
As he had looked into her beautiful eyes (for she was 
a wonderfully beautiful child) he had never once 
thought that they would so soon close forever to all 



f rederf ch Cleveland 175 

earthly vision; he had never dreamed the little golden 
head would wear a crown of immortality in three 
short years, and as she sweetly sang the hymn she 
loved so much — "Come to Jesus just now" — how 
could he know that so soon she would "behold the 
King in His beauty " and stand in His presence, 
" forever with the Lord." "He shall gather the lambs 
with His arm and carry them in His bosom" — Isa. 
40:1 1. 

" I have buried my father and mother and sisters," 
said Mr. Cleveland to a friend who was seeking to 
comfort him, " but nothing has touched me like the 
death of my little child," and his strength, never very 
great, began gradually to fail. 

They were much from home that summer, taking 
with them the whole family. The oldest son left for 
college in the autumn, and they thought sorrowfully 
of the long winter with two members of the family 
absent, never dreaming that another would be taken 
from their midst before the winter came. Bertha 
Cleveland was more than four years older than her 
sister Edith. There is a record in the large family 
Bible which reads as follows: 

" Bertha Isabel, third daughter of Frederick and Ger- 
trude Maria Cleveland, born Sept. 28th, 1875." 

She was not a delicate child, was rarely if ever ill, 
but she was small and frail, being very little larger 
than her three year old sister. She had felt the loss 
of her -little sister very deeply. She had always been 



176 Flemofrs of 

like a little mother to her, had talked of her all sum- 
mer long, telling to her parents some of Edith's cun- 
ning little sayings. She was talking one day about 
her sister's garments, which had been carefully folded 
and put away in a cedar chest and she said to her 
mother: "What will you do with my dresses, mamma, 
when I am gone?" She was ever a thoughtful child 
and yet full of life, never quiet, but brimming over 
with fun. 

In the early part of October she took her last jour- 
ney with her father. He was going to Hartford, 
Conn., on business concerning the family monument 
and Bertha was to accompany him. They were to 
start at six-thirty in the morning and she was ready, 
not forgetting to come to her mother's room to say 
her morning prayers. The silken touch of the little 
brown head, the picture of the closed eyes and folded 
hands and the sound of the little voice comes back to 
the mother after sixteen years have passed as vividly 
as if it were but a day. On Friday night of the next 
week she was taken ill. She had been at school that 
day, had gone out for a walk toward evening and had 
gathered a basket of wild crab apples for her mother, 
and when at night her parents were going to the 
weekly prayer meeting she had run out to the stables 
to hasten the coachman. At seven o'clock she seemed 
to be perfectly well but at ten o'clock she was sick 
and feverish and they summoned a physician. The 
case rapidly developed into malignant diphtheria. It 



frederfch Cleveland 177 

was another desperate fight for a little life and another 
failure. Three physicians attended her day and night 
and all were hopeful until a few hours before her 
death. All through the terrible illness she was 
cheered by the thought of the coming Christmas and 
the pleasures it would bring her. For weeks she had 
saved her money and during her sickness the money 
given to encourage her in taking the nauseating medi- 
cines was added to it and counted over and over again 
as she promised with sweet self-forgetfulness "Mamma, 
I'm going to buy you a Christmas present, and I'll 
buy one for papa, and grandma if I have any money 
over I'll buy one for you, too." How many times 
she repeated this cannot be told, but the voice each 
time grew weaker and weaker in that one short week 
of suffering, until the whisper was so low and faint 
and her eagerness to tell it so great that she wound 
her little arms about her mother's neck and whispered 
it in her ear. She wanted them all about her bedside. 
"Sit down by my bedside, and hold my hand and 
don't leave me," she said to her mother in pleading, 
loving tones and then, as she saw the stained garments 
upon her, with her natural desire for cleanliness she 
said "O, when will you dress me clean? I'm so 
soiled." Alas! they knew too well that in a few short 
moments the soiled garments would be laid aside for- 
ever and the white robes and palms of victory would 
be hers. She wanted to see her brother at college 

and she tried hard to express her love for him and she 
12 



178 l^Iemoifs of 

wondered why "Freddie (her brother) did not come 
to see her," and then she tried to tell them something 
which they could not understand for she could not 
speak above a whisper. In the seven short years of 
her life she had not learned to fear death. She would 
"Like to see Edith," and she was "one of Jesus' little 
lambs," and she said, as her weary feet almost touched 
the river "I want to rest! Papa, let me rest!" Sud- 
denly, as she raised her arms to her mother, she 
looked eagerly upward, her eye having caught some- 
thing we could not see. A glad expression lit up the 
little radiant face and in another moment she had 
passed beyond the heavenly portals. Blessed child ! 
she is resting now on the bosom of Jesus, and singing 
with her little sister the songs of the redeemed in the 
Father's house. Two little buds broken off from our 
home-tree, but blooming in heaven. Two little lambs 
gathered from our fold into the fold of the good 
Shepherd. Two little lives gone out from this world 
into that world where there is no care, no sorrow, no 
temptation. Only asleep in Jesus! like a loving 
Friend he has gathered them to his bosom with one 
hand, but with the other hand he is leading us 
homeward, and the journey will soon be over. Only 
asleep in Jesus! and the awakening time will soon 
come. When we bade them "good bye" it was with 
bitter tears of sorrow; when we meet them again we 
shall bid them "good morning," and the sorrow shall 
be exchanged for joy and the sighing for the songs of 



frcdcHch Cleveland 179 

gladness. The days and the months and the years 
are rolling rapidly away and the parting lies away 
back in the past, but the meeting time grows nearer 
and nearer. They laid her to rest under the Kilmar- 
nock willow by the side of her sister Edith. A gran- 
ite slab bears the following inscription: 

" Our Little Bertha 

Born Sept. 28th, 1875. 

Entered into Rest Nov. 3d, 1882." 

As they gathered about the grave on that beautiful 
autumn afternoon they sang the sweet song that had 
been the lullaby song of her babyhood and which she 
had always so dearly loved: 

"There's a land that is fairer than day, 
And by faith we can see it afar, 
And the Father waits over the way 
To prepare us a dwelling place there. 
In the sweet bye and bye 
We shall meet on that beautiful shore. " 

A little more than a week after Bertha's death the 
second daughter was taken with the same dreadful 
disease. The physicians were sure, now, that there 
was some cause for the terrible scourge and advised an 
immediate removal from the home. At midnight the 
two children were taken to board at the home of the 
family physician, and the day after they carried the 
sick daughter in her bed to a furnished house, which 
they had rented in the city. It was a desperate fight 



180 TVIemotre of 

for the precious life but this time they gained the 
victory. Each member of the family had symptoms 
of the disease but were undoubtedly saved by the 
timely removal. They spent the winter in the city, 
returning in the early spring. The house had been 
thoroughly renovated and everything seemed in per- 
fect order but Mrs. Cleveland came back very much 
depressed. She had a great horror lest the cause of 
their trouble had not yet been discovered, and she 
seemed on the verge of nervous prostration. At last, 
at her urgent entreaties, Mr. Cleveland sent a bottle of 
the well water down to New York City to be analyzed, 
and in a little more than a week a message came back 
as follows: "There is sewage in the water, it is unfit 
for use." The drinking water had been Mr. Cleve- 
land's pride. It was cold and clear and pleasant to 
the taste, but, alas! it was a deadly poison,. They 
took up the drain and found that in building an addi- 
tion to the house the year before, the workmen had 
laid down broken tile, using putty to repair it, which 
had speedily dropped out, and a black mark in the 
yellow sand leading to the well, a distance of about 
fifteen feet, showed where the poisonous stream had 
found its way, contaminating the waters and bringing 
with it destruction and death. It is useless to say 
"Had we but known !•" God knew and God is Love, 
and He doeth all things well. "If thou hadst been 
here, my brother had not died," said Martha to Jesus, 
and yet He knew. The compassionate heart of the 



f redertch Cleveland 1 8 1 

Saviour grieved as much with the afflicted family at 
Greyledge as it ever did with the afflicted family at 
Bethany. " He is the same yesterday, to-day and 
forever/ ' 

"My God and Father while I stray 
Far from my home, on life's rough way, 
O, teach me from my heart to say 
"Thy will be done.' 

Then when on earth I breathe no more, 
The prayer oft mixed with tears before, 
I'll sing upon a happier shore, 
4 Thy will be done."' 



182 JVlemofrs of 

Chapter XVII 
AT THE SANITARIUM 

"Going — this old, old life; 
Beautiful world farewell ! 
Forest and meadow ! river and hill ! 
Ring ye a loving knell 
O'er us ! 
Coming — a nobler life ; 

Coming — a better land ; 
Coming — a long, long nightless day 
Coming — the grand, grand 
Chorus." 

The year 1883 was characterized by no very great 
event in the life of Mr. Cleveland. His health 
improving somewhat, he went back to his office and 
with the assistance of a private secretary he was 
enabled to attend to business for nearly a year. In 
the early part of 1884 he had a slight attack of facial 
paralysis, affecting and closing the left eye for several 
days. He then became quite alarmed over his 
physical condition and gave up active business life, 
which he was never again able to resume. Previous 
to this attack of facial paralysis — during the summer 
of 1883 — he had been busy remodeling his monu- 
ment, putting his family plot in the cemetery in 
order, and in arranging his personal matters in case 
he should be suddenly called away. After the attack, 
and as soon as he was able, he went, in company with 



fredericfc Cleveland 183 

his wife and their friends, Mr. and Mrs. A. S. Kibbee, 
of Albany, to Dr. Strong V sanitarium at Saratoga 
Springs. The baths and general treatment there were 
very beneficial to him and the bracing air and copious 
draughts of spring water each morning built him up, 
and he felt, as he said, as if he had taken a new lease 
of life. Both Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland had entered 
fully into the social element there, and had made 
many firm friends. Although many of the guests 
were invalids yet there was very little that savored of 
invalidism in the atmosphere of the house. The 
guests were people of refinement and culture and the 
companionship was most delightful, each one seeming 
desirous to add to the entertainment of the long win- 
ter hours. There were pleasant sleighrides or walks 
together in the morning. There were parlor games 
in the evening; readings; occasional lectures; musi- 
cales and other entertainments, and there was a little 
"Paper" edited that brought much good cheer. There 
was a spiritual atmosphere about the house, also, that 
one rarely meets in such public places. Morning 
worship was held immediately after breakfast, the 
guests assembling in the long parlors, and it was led 
by Dr. Strong, Sr., his son, or some of the many 
guests of the house. The deep earnestness and sin- 
cerity of Mr. Cleveland won the respect of the ven- 
erable doctor and he was frequently called upon to lead 
in these devotions, which he did in a most acceptable 
manner. 



1 84 lyiewolre of 

They left the sanitarium with much regret after 
several weeks of pleasant sojourn there. His im- 
proved health was wonderful. The spring and sum- 
mer passed rapidly away without any marked event in 
his life, but when autumn came, with it came also 
the old symptoms of paralysis and they spent the 
month of November and part of December of 1884 
at the sanitarium and again he was much improved. 
As the holidays drew near they returned home hoping 
to spend them with the family at Greyledge and then 
return to Saratoga. One thing after another delayed 
the return and on the 17th, on the 21st and on the 
24th of January the old symptoms returned with 
alarming power. On the 26th of January he went, 
with his wife, to consult again with Dr. Strong. 
Delighted to be back with their former friends he 
went into the consulting office laughing and joking 
with the doctor, not realizing his serious condition. 
After a short consultation Mrs. Cleveland was called 
in and Mr. Cleveland was asked to retire. The 
report was very discouraging and Mrs. Cleveland 
received it with heavy heart. He was on the verge 
of paralysis. It was doubtful if anything could save 
him now. Like a man in a row boat, on a rough sea, 
and nearing a dangerous coast he was liable to strike 
the rocks at any moment. They went back to Albany 
that night to make arrangements for an indefinite stay 
at the sanitarium and returned the following evening. 
It was very plain to be seen that Mr. Cleveland had 



frederfch Cleveland 185 

failed. He was not able to take the baths, the gym- 
nasium exercises nor the walks, but he was put under 
other treatment. At the request of his wife, Dr. 
Strong had informed Mr. Cleveland of his danger, 
but naturally hopeful, he depended upon the treat- 
ment to ward off the attack and kept up good cour- 
age. Two weeks passed away. They had a pleasant 
visit from an uncle of whom Mr. Cleveland was very 
fond; had entered into the social element as before 
and they felt quite at home. Their second Sabbath 
there was a memorable one to both. They had been 
to church together and had listened to a beautiful ser- 
mon on I Cor. 13:9 to 13. It was on the mysteries 
of God's Will, and had the preacher known what 
awaited two members of his congregation before the 
close of that week he could not have chosen a more 
appropriate text nor spoken more appropriate words. 
On that Sabbath afternoon they had a parlor conver- 
sation with some of the friends in the house and then 
came the twilight hour alone together. The subject 
of that twilight talk was on a passage in Acts which 
Mr. Cleveland thought wondrously beautiful. It 
was this: "Purchased with His own blood." "Gertie, 
he said, " if I am called away first put my name on the 
die of the monument with date of birth and death; 
yours underneath and that precious passage below for 
both of us. N The sweet and hallowed influence of 
that quiet hour, so long past, comes back like a dream 
of heaven. Sitting side by side and hand in hand the 



i86 l^cmofrs of 

hush of the Sabbath evening, the quiet tones of the 
loving voice and the look of infinite peace upon the 
beloved face can never be forgotten. 

A little more than three days later came the dread- 
ful "shock". It was early on Thursday morning, 
February 12, 1885. He had arisen and was partly 
dressed when he was taken with vertigo and the black- 
ness of midnight came before his eyes. Two physi- 
cians were hastily summoned but they both knew and 
he too what it meant. He removed his garments, 
one by one, handing them to his wife and asking her 
to hang them away, gave her his purse and said to 
her, "Mamma, I'm stranded," referring to what Dr. 
Strong had said as to his being like a man in a row 
boat, on a dangerous coast and liable to strike the 
rocks at any moment. He had reached the rocks at 
last, and the life boat quivering among the breakers 
looked as if it would go down forever. A message 
speeding over the wires to Albany brought his brother 
and the younger children by first train, and on the 
evening train, from college, came the eldest son. He 
felt that he would die, and gave directions to his wife 
about some business matters which he insisted she 
should write down, and he talked all day very rapidly 
fearing he would soon be unable to speak. At his 
request Dr. W. came from Albany for consultation, 
and he was hopeful of recovery, but as the night drew 
on his mind began to wander and he became more 
restless. The left hand and foot rested not all that 



frederlch Cleveland 187 

long night — picking, picking, reaching up as though 
he were pulling down a bunch of grapes and bringing 
it to his mouth to eat Sometimes pointing up he 
would say, "See! see! our little Edith! our little 
Bertha !" as if he had gotten so near the border that 
God had given him a vision on the other side and he 
saw once more the faces of his little children who had 
gone from his arms to the arms of Jesus less than 
three years before. At times he became nervous and 
wept at the thought of parting from his beloved 
family, but when he saw his wife weeping he said to 
her, ."Don't feel badly, I'm not afraid to die." O, 
what a night it was ! The family remained by the 
bedside until half past three. There was no fire 
allowed in the room and it was bitter cold. They 
sang for him some of the precious hymns he loved — 
his mother's hymn "Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly 
Dove," "O, to be nothing" etc., "Gates Ajar" and 
"My Jesus, I love Thee," and repeated to him many of 
the precious promises. He never slept one moment 
that long night and the busy hand was never still. 
As another day dawned he seemed to be rapidly fail- 
ing. At six o'clock in the evening both physicians 
said he would probably die in a couple of hours. He 
called the three older children to his bedside and 
asked each one — calling them by name — to promise 
him to love Jesus and meet him in heaven and then 
he gave instructions to his brother in regard to his 
burial. Soon he could no longer speak, but looking 



1 88 JVIemotrs of 

upward he seemed to get a vision of the world beyond 
and of his little angel children and pointing up he 
eagerly sought to make them "see Edith." The 
bells and gongs were stopped and the house was kept 
perfectly quiet. At six o'clock supper was brought 
up but his throat was paralyzed and he could no 
longer swallow. As the clock struck eight Mrs. 
Cleveland remembered that it was Friday and the 
hour for the weekly prayer meeting at home and she 
knew that they were not forgotten before God. After- 
ward she learned that fervent prayer had been offered 
for Mr. Cleveland's recovery, and God heard and 
answered. Soon he had passed into a comotose state. 
By his bedside sat his wife holding his hand and wet- 
ting his parched lips. At the foot of the bed stood 
the three older children, his brother and other rela- 
tives. Dr. Strong, Sr., came in and offered prayer and 
spoke very lovingly of him; said he was one in whose 
Christianity he had no doubt. He believed he was 
ready to go. A little after two in the morning he 
seemed to awaken from his stupor and asked what 
time it was and why they were up so late; and at 
three-thirty he spoke quite plainly these words: "I 
declare I believe I am better, I can talk better any- 
way." Thus gradually he came back, as it were, from 
the very brink of the grave. 

One Sabbath mornng as Mrs. Cleveland sat in the 
door of her room listening to the morning worship she 
heard a sweet voice, full of touching pathos, singing 



frederfch Cleveland 189 

an old familiar hymn. She recognized it immediately, 
and it carried her back to the old church with husband 
and children by her side and the singer, down in the 
parlor was up in the organ loft again in the old Fourth 
church singing the same sweet song, 

" One sweetly solemn thought 
Comes to me o'er and o'er, 
I'm nearer home to-day, to-day 
Than I have been before." 

When the song was finished there was a pause, and, 
again, up from the parlor came another familiar song, 

44 When the mists have rolled in splendor 
From the beauty of the hills 
And the sunlight falls in gladness 

On the river and the rills, 
We recall our Father's promise 
In the rainbow and the spray, 
We shall know each other better 
When the mists have rolled away. 
We shall know as we are known, 
Never moie to walk alone. 
In the dawning of the morning 

Of that bright and happy day : 
We shall know each other better 
When the mists have rolled away." 

Down the steps went the listener, all unconscious, 
carrying her poor broken heart to the very portals of 
the parlor , and as the song died away two women, 
the comforter and the one who mutely plead for com- 
fort, mingled their tears together. The singer has 



I go Memoirs of 

long ago gone to the better land. She went in a 
moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and she is stand- 
ing to-day upon the sea of glass with the harp of God 
in her hand, and the sweet voice is singing the new 
song — the song of Moses and the Lamb. The voice 
is silent on earth, but its influence is reaching on 
through the eternal years, and we cannot know till 
we stand before the great white throne how many 
have been blessed and comforted and made better by 
the beautiful song service of Mrs. J. H. Bentley. 

Mr. Cleveland grew better slowly and hope revived, 
but he was anxious to return home and in the early 
part of March they brought him back. His life hung 
in the balance for several months and he seemed to 
wonder how long he had to live. "Would he live until 
May?" he would ask, and as May passed, "would he 
live until July?" He wanted to remain with his family, 
was anxious to live to see his sons settled, but after all 
he was quite willing to bide God's will. He had such 
perfect delight in the thought that the Lord might 
return at any moment and bring with Him his little 
heavenly children, and he loved to be with those who 
believed in the second coming of Christ. He loved 
to talk with them about it. He was sincerely attached 
to Mr. D. L. Moody, and Northfield was a blessed 
place to him. He was, also, sincerely attached to 
Rev. Dr. A. B. Simpson of New York city, whom he 
had known for many years and whose ardent piety and 
fearless stand for Christ he so much admired. He 



fredertch Cleveland 191 

had spent many weeks at Berachah Home and it had 
been truly a "valley. of blessing" to him. The Rev. 
W. H. Walker was a man who probably knew the 
inner life of Mr. Cleveland more than any one else, for 
as his helplessness withdrew him more and more from 
the society of men of business he learned to long 
more and more for the society of Mr. Walker. He 
was ever a welcome guest at his home and they sat 
together by the hour talking about the coming of the 
King and the glory that should be revealed. Thus 
we close this chapter, leaving him in the home circle, 
surrounded by love and fellowship and the many good 
things which God had given him richly to enjoy. 
But he was 

Taken aside by Jesus 

To feel the touch of His hand, 
To rest for a while in the shadow 

Of the rock in a weary land. 

— C. W. As kbit. 



192 ]>Iemofr6 of 



Chapter XVIII 
THE NEXT TEN YEARS 

Taken aside by Jesus 

To hear as I have heard 
The melody ring from His wondrous voice, 

The tones of the Living Word. 

Taken aside by Jesus 

With a broken heart to-day, 
But I heard Him sigh in that desert place 

And I heard my beloved say : 

il It is I, and I know the pain; 
It is I, and I know the loss; 
It is I — thou shalt know the eternal gain ; 
It is I, who endured the cross." 

Taken aside by Jesus 

Till faith seems almost sight 
And I dwell so near to my Father's House, 

Almost within its light. 

C. W. Ashby. 

Ten years! An eternity to one just starting out on 
the journey of life, but to him who has crossed the 
dividing line, and is going down the other side the 
years roll onward with wonderful rapidity. We look 
back to the changes they have wrought and our hearts 
are filled with awe and fear when we remember the 
possibilities and probabilities of the coming ten years. 
The intervening events from 1885 to 1 895 painted by 
an unseen, unerring hand, were events of intense inter- 
est to the family at Greyledge. There was marrying 



frederfcfc Cleveland 193 

and giving in marriage — there were births and deaths 
— burdens laid and burdens lifted — there were joys 
and sorrows intermingled. So will it be until that 
great day when the Lord himself shall come, and we 
shall be caught up to meet Him in the air. Mr. Cleve- 
land came home from Saratoga his right side nearly 
useless. Like a bird with a broken wing he could not 
fly very far alone, but he was by no means a "shut 
in." He walked with ease about his house, took long 
walks over his grounds, took interest in the affairs of 
his garden, and he took one or two long drives every 
day, winter and summer. Even in his half-helpless 
condition he was brightness itself in his home life and 
among his friends, enjoying their society and making 
himself very entertaining. He had neither ache nor 
pain, his appetite was good, he was in church every 
Sabbath morning, rain or shine, and enjoyed life 
full as much as he ever did. His habits of life were 
very methodical — up in the morning before seven 
o'clock, breakfast, luncheon and dinner at an exact 
hour, an hour's nap in the afternoon and an hour's 
massage in the evening, retiring at a little after nine 
o'clock. He followed carefully the advice of his 
faithful and beloved physician, Dr. James W. Cox, 
and in so doing his life was, undoubtedly, prolonged 
for years. 

Mr. Cleveland was no house man, and it was a great 
sorrow to him that he was so soon laid aside from 

active business life, and had so little opportunity of 
13 



194 



^lemofrs of 



meeting with business men. He carried with him 
always the keys of his offices and desk, only laying 
them aside when his business was sold out. But 
through all the long years of invalidism he never mur- 
mured nor worried. He longed to get well and all 
that medical skill could do was done, but he had 
learned in whatsoever state he was, therein to be con- 
tent, and his face bore a peaceful, restful look as if, 
like Stephen, he had caught a vision of the open 
heavens. He did not grow old looking but kept fresh 
and bright, and young. He loved to take short trips 
away from home with his wife and children and before 
the first year had passed away he had visited New York 
City, Howe's Cave and other places, including a week 
with his son at Hamilton College, and when his son 
graduated in 1886 he was present and proud and 
happy to be there. He was always planning little 
pleasure drives about the country, always accompanied 
by his wife and some members of his family, for he 
never cared to drive without them, and as they usually 
had guests they went out with quite a party. There 
were several drives about Albany which Mr. Cleveland 
especially enjoyed. One was to Niskayuna by way of 
Cohoes and Crescent, then along the banks of the 
Mohawk river to Vischer's Ferry. The view was most 
magnificent from the falls all the way up, the roadway 
hugging the river bank from falls to ferry. They usu- 
ally took dinner at a little country hotel by the way- 
side, then they crossed the ferry with a scow and 



frederfch Cleveland 195 

visited the rest of the day at Fernfalls, the home of 
his father-in-law, or with an uncle, returning home in 
the early evening on the south side of the river. 

Another drive was to Altamont by way of Sloans, 
dining at the village hotel and returning home by the 
road near the foot of the mountain. This drive on 
one beautiful day in autumn will never be forgotten. 
The mountain side was aglow from top to bottom with 
its variety of coloring — golden and russet, vermillion 
and red, and dotted here and there, were the dark 
green colorings of hemlock and pine. As they neared 
the Indian Ladder — the Palisades of the Helderbergs 
— a long spray of water fell down over the rocky 
cliff like a bridal veil, losing itself in a mist as it 
neared the bottom. They stopped the carriage and 
looked with wonder and admiration until the lingering 
rays of the setting sun bade them press onward toward 
home. 

Another delightful drive was to Crooked Lake, a 
clear and beautiful basin of water lying a little south- 
east of Albany at a distance of perhaps fourteen 
miles. They crossed the Bath ferry and then the 
drive seemed to be directly up hill all the way. It is 
a rolling country, exceedingly picturesque and beauti- 
ful. They drove past "Old Crown Point" lying a 
distance of perhaps a quarter of a mile to the right of 
the roadway. It never lost the crown-like appearance 
viewed on every side. How often he had watched 
the sun rising directly behind it from his chamber 



196 JVIemofrs of 

window at Greyledge, gilding and beautifying it until 
it looked, indeed, like a crown of glory, and it brought 
to his mind something of the beauty of the Eternal 
City. They passed through Sand Lake, Averill Park 
and Glass Lake, along water courses and over rustic 
bridges, through avenues of drooping elms, past farm- 
houses and country homes of affluence — a sudden bend 
in the roadway to the south and a ride of a mile or 
more brought them to an attractive little hostelry with 
well kept lawn and inviting hammocks and swings 
and croquet grounds and numerous fishing boats. A 
mountain brook on the north side ran down to the 
lake, stoned on either side. There had been a cloud 
burst up in the mountains once, and there had rushed 
down the mountain side a mighty torrent carrying with 
it rocks and sand and filling up the bottom land to the 
depth of several feet; fearing the effects of another 
avalanche they had stoned up a little canal and made 
ready. Mr. Cleveland loved this picturesque spot. 
Its cuisine was unsurpassed and here he loved to 
spend the day sitting on the piazza and looking out 
toward Mt. Bailey, admiring the mountain scenery or 
sitting on the garden seats admiring the well kept 
flower beds with their great variety of cactus, or look- 
ing out toward the clear blue waters of the lake. 
During his early visits he was able to go out with fish- 
ing tackle in the boats and enjoy his old pastime, but 
as the years went by he had grown too helpless, 
although to the last he was always hoping as he drove 







X 

(J 

D 



fredertch Cleveland 197 

out that he would be able to try it again. The sum- 
mer before his death he went out with his wife and 
her father and mother. The ride tired him very 
much and he said to Mr. Brown, the proprietor of the 
hotel, "I don't think I will ever come again for I am 
failing very fast." 

Another drive which he loved very much was 
through the Albany Cemetery, visiting not only the 
graves of his father and mother and grandparents, 
and his own plot with the graves of his children and 
grandchildren, but the whole cemetery was a hallowed 
spot to him. Every cemetery had a strange attraction 
for-him and he rarely visited a city any length of time 
without visiting its cemetery. 

In the autumn of 1887 his eldest son was married 
to Clara Louise Mather, of Garrattsville, N. Y., and 
two years later the eldest daughter was married to 
Frederick Sterry, of Albany, N. Y., both going out of 
the old home into the new. Into these homes, as the 
years went by came the little grandchildren — five of 
them — four into the son's home and one into the 
daughter's. But out of the group of four, two little 
ones went early over into the Better Land, and they 
lie buried in the family lot by the side of their grand- 
father. He always wanted to see his children settled 
in life, but had little hope of living so long, yet he was 
privileged to gather into his home and to his heart his 
children and his children's children. 

In the city of Philadelphia on Easter morning, 



198 jviemofrs of 

April 2, 1888, his sister Carrie passed to her home 
beyond. The funeral services were held in the chapel 
of the Albany Rural Cemetery and she was buried 
there in the family lot near the grave of her father. 

In 1890 Mr. Cleveland with his wife and daughter 
Maude, visited Chicago and Milwaukee and also with 
the old friends at Waukegan. Many had dropped out 
of the ranks but those remaining gave them a royal 
welcome. A glimpse at Patterson cottage and the 
home on Washington street brought back many sad 
memories, and a seat in the old church on Sabbath 
"in the pew where father and mother sat" was very 
much enjoyed. It was the last time he ever saw 'his 
friend and former physician, Dr. Barker. He had 
passed already his four score years, was in feeble 
health and nearing his Heavenly Home. Mr. Cleve- 
land spent the day with him and they sat together 
talking of the old days and weeping. On the way 
home they stopped over at Niagara, Mr. Cleveland 
having promised his daughter a visit to the falls. 
Hardly had they reached the place before he was taken 
ill, and after partial relief he began to be troubled on 
account of his not being able to keep his promise to 
his daughter. She tried to assure him that she was 
more interested in his recovery than in anything else, 
but he still seemed so grieved that Mrs. Cleveland 
finally engaged the young elevator boy to stay with 
him and she and her daughter took a carriage and 
made the visit to the falls. On their return they 



fredcrfch Cleveland 199 

found the black face by the bedside and the white face 
on the pillow both radiant. "You have not been gone 
long, scarcely an hour/' said Mr. Cleveland to his wife. 
But she assured him it was nearly three and added 
" You must have had a pleasant time during our 
absence." "Yes," he said, "we had," and after the 
colored boy left he said to her, "No sooner had you 
gone when the little fellow asked me if I loved the 
Lord and was trying to serve Him. I said yes, and 
then we talked together about Jesus and I tell you 
he is a little hero." 

On the nth of February, 1892, he took a trip 
over the Rockies to California accompanied by his 
wife, his daughter Maude and his youngest son. Of 
this trip a complete diary was kept and this memoir 
contains some pages gathered from it which will be 
given in another chapter. 

The years 1893 and 1894 passed by without any 
encouraging symptoms in Mr. Cleveland's physical 
condition. He was not able to attend the World's 
Fair at Chicago as he had hoped. He walked about 
the grounds as usual but he tired sooner, and it was 
plain to be seen that he was not gaining physically; 
indeed, there seemed to be a gradual losing which he 
saw himself as well as his family. But all the while 
he was hopeful, enjoyed his drives, his visiting and 
his visitors, his church relations, and his little cosy 
corner on the terrace under the trees, where he would 
sit for hours with his wife or some member of his 



200 JMeimofre of 

family looking down on the valley below, watching 
the boats on the river and admiring the colors and 
shadows of the hills beyond. 

In 1894 his youngest son spent several months 
abroad visiting the Holy Land, while he with his wife 
and daughter took a suite of rooms at the hotel in the 
city spending part of the winter there. 

Early in the spring after their return to Greyledge 
the daughter had a severe illness of typhoid fever, 
and his anxiety over her brought upon him a sudden 
illness. From that time on he passed from one test- 
ing to another. In the spring of 1895 he had an 
abscess on his forehead which lasted a year and caused 
intense suffering. Through the skill of his young 
physician, however, he was healed, not a scar remain- 
ing. 

Thus we see that the little bark launched out on the 
stream of life amid the mountains of Vermont met 
with many a rough sea and a mysterious sailing; shiver- 
ing and quivering amid the beating breakers it seemed 
at times as if almost wrecked, yet all the while the 
unseen Pilot never let go until He had anchored it 
safely into its desired haven. 

From 1885 to 1895 were ten beautiful years — years 
of perfect peace and rest; years of devoted family life 
that savored of Heaven itself; years of communion 
with Christ and fellowship with his dear children. 

Mr. Cleveland's loving, clinging disposition, his 
utter helplessness and his dependence upon wife and 



fredertch Cleveland 201 

children made him doubly dear to them, and his 
presence among them through the years of feebleness 
drew them all not only nearer to him, but nearer to 
each other and to all who were in need. His presence 
hallowed the home and made it sacred — sweet. 

Oh when the Savior shall make up His jewels, 
When the bright crowns of rejoicing are won, 

Then shall His weary and faithful disciples 
All be remembered by what they have done. 

Bonar. 



202 gemote °* 



Chapter XIX 
OVER THE ROCKIES 

Touched by a light that hath no name, 

A glory never sung, 
Aloft on sky and mountain wall 

Are God's great pictures hung. 
How changed the summits vast and old ! 

No longer granite-bowed, 
They melt in rosy mist ; the rock 

Is softer than the cloud. 

Whittier. 

Mr. Cleveland took the journey across the continent 
under the care of the Raymond Party, and he was 
quite as comfortable all the way through as if he sat 
in his own parlors or rested upon his own bed at 
Greyledge. He and his family had two sections in 
the centre of the car opposite each other and thus 
they had the benefit of the view on each side. The 
journey through Kansas was very little like the jour- 
ney he took thirty-five years before, and the country 
had met with a marvelous change, the large cattle 
ranches showing thrift and enterprise. New Mexico 
seemed to him like another world. It had nothing 
but sand and sage brush and cedars with here and there 
a little adobe house. There were majestic mountains 
away off in the distance, their peaks covered with the 
snows of an eternal winter; but the country was 



fredertch Cleveland 203 

entirely without water. Cattle were lying dead beside 
the tracks, dying from starvation and lack of water. 
Occasionally they saw a large ranch in the distance and 
a few corrals for sheep and cattle but the country was 
very sparsely settled. They passed villages of prairie 
dogs, their little mounds looking like ant hills and they 
sat upon their haunches beside their mounds, watching 
the great train as it rolled by, without the least fear. 
The railroad followed the old Santa Fe trail, the over- 
land road to California, and they crossed the Raton 
mountains, a spur of the Rockies, at Trinidad. Back 
of Trinidad lies Fisher's Peak, its summit 9,633 feet 
above sea level. In these mountains are wonderful 
coal fields. They stopped over at Los Vega's Hot 
Springs and drove up the canon over two miles, and 
on their return visited a Mexican village of two or 
three hundred inhabitants and saw something of their 
manner of living. They also stopped over at Santa 
Fe, visited the Governor's palace, Gold's curio shop, 
Romona Indian school, Presbyterian church, school 
and* manse, the capitol, Fort Marcy and the oldest 
church in Amercia. This old church was built in 1545, 
was twice destroyed by the Indians, and rebuilt in 
1 7 10 by the Spanish. There are two pictures in it 
over three hundred years old, and a bell cast in 1300. 
It seemed hardly possible to Mr. Cleveland that they 
were in America in the nineteenth century. The streets 
were narrow and muddy and without sidewalks, and 
conspicuous among the pedestrians and wagons and 



204 JVUmofrs of 

carts were the little burros laden with kindling wood 
tied about the body, which the Indians and Mexicans 
drove down from the mountains eight or nine miles 
back, walking all the way and selling the wood for 
twenty-five cents. 

The ride through Arizona was exceedingly interest- 
ing to Mr. Cleveland. For miles there was nothing 
but arid plains with little vegetation save the tufts of 
grass and cedar and cactus here and there. Some of 
the cactus were in full bloom and were exceedingly 
beautiful. Then came the great mountains of which 
he never tired, the San Francisco range, with its three 
sharp peaks — Mt. Humphrey, Agassis and Sunset 
Peak, each crowned with the snow of an eternal win- 
ter. Flagstaff, a little lumber town at the foot of 
these mountains, is 7,000 feet above sea level. North- 
west of the San Francisco range is the Coconina range, 
comprising sixty-five extinct volcanoes, and here are 
found the cave dwellings which antedate the cliff- 
dwellings found extensively at Walnut canon, nine 
miles away, and here, too, are found ruins of cities 
and towns built of stone and prehistoric. At a little 
watering station, in the night, a party of Indians and 
cowboys surrounded the train and sang a war dance. 
As they had been fighting among themselves for several 
weeks past, their music was anything but attractive 
to the frightened passengers. Aside from a few small 
stations there were no habitations except now and then 
a tepee or Indian adobe, and Indians painted in stripes 



fredericfc Cleveland 205 

of red and yellow and black came to the train with 
trinkets and stones and pottery for sale or to exhibit 
some little papoose. They were a most pitiful sight, 
ragged and filthy and full of vermin, hardly looking 
like human beings. 

They passed the Needles and entered California on 
the morning of February 20, 1892, crossing the Colo- 
rado river on a cantelever bridge. It was a most event- 
ful morning to one member of the Cleveland family 
and none of them ever forgot it. Mr. Cleveland's 
daughter had placed her jewels in a glass of water in 
the washroom while she finished her morning toilet. 
A lady crowding her way in took up the glass and 
emptied it in the bowl, not knowing the jewels were 
there. A solitaire diamond ring, a diamond earring 
and an opal ring were lost, amounting to several hun- 
dred dollars. Every effort was made to find the lost 
jewels, and eight months afterwards the solitaire ring 
was found and returned. The others were never 
heard from. 

After a ride through the Mojave desert the scenery 
was most magnificent. California is a perfect flower 
garden — roses of all kinds and colors, japonicas and 
trees of heliotrope six or seven feet high, clumps of 
daisies, geranium trees and hedges of calla, all in full 
bloom in the month of February. Wild flowers in 
masses — azalias, red and white and yellow, meadows 
of wild mustard and a nameless little blue flower and 
everywhere the beautiful California poppy. On every 



206 Nemotre of 

side were orange groves, lemons, prunes, raisins, 
olives, and English walnuts. 

The wonderful mountains of California! Who can 
describe them? Mr. Cleveland's first glimpse of the 
San Bernadino range was never forgotten. There it 
lay away up beyond the clouds, a mist rolling at its 
base, its top alone visible; then again the mist rolls 
away from the base and rolls up from the summit, like 
smoke from the mouth of a volcano. Old Greyback 
to the east lies up among the clouds, its sharp peaks 
veined with everlasting snows and Old Baldy, white 
and snow-veined, looms up to the northwest. Mr. 
Cleveland spent several weeks at Coronado Beach, 
Riverside, Passadena and Los Angeles, visiting the 
old missions and all other places of interest. River- 
side, on the Santa Ana river, covers an area of fifty- 
six square miles, and has a hundred miles of irrigating 
canals built on the sides of its avenues. It has the 
finest drive in the world. The drive is twelve miles 
long and one hundred and fifty feet wide and is bor- 
dered with cyprus hedges trimmed in fantastic shapes, 
pepper trees, eucaliptus, magnolias, tall century plants 
and palms, and every variety of flower, and on both 
sides are the homes of wealth and culture. While the 
Clevelands were at Riverside there occurred a very 
severe earthquake. Most beautiful for situation is 
Passadena, the crown of the valley. It lies a little south 
of the Sierra Madre mountains, which range from two 
thousand to eleven thousand feet in height, and run 



frederfch Cleveland 207 

back forty miles. One of its highest peaks is called 
Wilson's peak — a trail winds its way up to the sum- 
mit and a camp is there for the accommodation of 
fifty persons. To the northeast is the San Bernadino 
range, to the southeast is Mt. San Jacinto, to the west 
are the Verdugo mountains, and beyond them to the 
south is Sierra Santa Monica. There was no place in 
California Mr. Cleveland loved more, and they re- 
mained there some time driving up some of its numer- 
ous canons, visiting several ranches and also the old San 
Gabriel mission. This mission is built of adobe, fairly 
well preserved, and is still open for service. Its old 
paintings have been reproduced and the original four 
bells are in the tower still calling the people to wor- 
ship. Santa Barbara was another place that interested 
him, and they spent several days there. One of the 
places of interest is the "Hot Sulphur Springs," up a 
canon in the Sierra Ynez mountain. A brook runs 
through the canon breaking into several beautiful cas- 
cades; one called "Spencer Falls" is about forty feet 
high and is divided into an upper and lower fall by 
a boulder about half way up. These cascades are like 
long white veils, and are exceedingly picturesque. At 
the head of the canon, half way up the mountain, 
nestle the small hotel and bathing houses of the 
springs, and here from a crevice in the rocks, bubbles 
up a sulphur and about twenty feet from it an arsenic 
spring, both too hot to bear the hands. Two trails 
meet here; one is up Mt. Lookout, half a mile further 



2 08 JVEemofrs of 

up and the other is not quite a half mile from the 
hotel. A cold spring is on this trail named "Jennie 
and Buss." It nestles in a rock like a bird's nest, 
and near it is a great boulder on which are written 
these words: "Saint's Rest — sit down." 

The Santa Barbara mission like the other California 
missions is built of adobe and is very well preserved. 
It has a large wing which is used as a monastery. 
The old cracked bell in the tower rang out the hour 
of Vespers while they were there and the old Padres 
or monks chanted in Latin the evening prayer. From 
Santa Barbara they went on to Monterey, back again 
at the foot of the Sierra Ynez mountains, passed Bene- 
ventura, its mountains towering above them and the 
sea sighing beneath, and a gorgeous sunset of crimson 
and gold and blue to the west, all reflected in the glit- 
tering waters of the Pacific Ocean ; through the beauti- 
ful Santa Clara valley, and then through the Soledad 
Pass, a wild canon only wide enough for the little 
Santa Clara river and our tracks. It is the gateway 
from Southern to Northern California, and is through 
the wildest, wierdest region in the world. After a run 
of many miles through the Mojave Desert, they turned 
the "Loop" away up over four thousand feet on the 
mountains, where the Southern Pacific Railroad actually 
crosses its own track to make the ascent, going through 
thirty-seven tunnels. Their stay at Monterey was 
very restful. The grounds of the Hotel del Monte 
comprise seven thousand acres and are laid out in 



frederkh Cleveland 209 

walks and drives, and with flowers and plants and trees 
of every variety, tropical and otherwise, including the 
cactus and plants belonging to the Arizona gardens. 
The aviary with ever so many bright plumaged birds 
was a source of great pleasure to Mr. Cleveland. The 
popular drive of Monterey is the eighteen mile drive. 
It is through the quaint village of Monterey, past Pacific 
Grove where the M. E. Church has built its Chautauqua 
on the Pacific coast, past Moss Beach and Shell Beach, 
where they gathered some beautiful shells, past Seal 
Rock where the sea lions crawl and sport in the sun, 
and they drove round the "Loop" high up on the 
rock. At Cypress Point there are some strange look- 
ing trees called cedars of Lebanon; they are found in 
no other part of the world save Palestine, and they 
present a very strange appearance — a straight umbrella 
top as if some great storm had turned the foliage one 
way. They stayed over Sabbath at Santa Cruz and 
then went on to San Jose, taking in the big trees on 
the way. This journey takes one through the very 
heart, of the Santa Cruz mountains. The little narrow 
guage road runs half way up the mountain side on a 
ledge of rock on the left, and on the right is a deep 
precipitous canon, a wooded abyss, at the foot of 
which rolls the San Lorenzo river. Its dark green 
waters are tinted by the verdure through which it 
rushes and foams, as it leaps over rock and boulder 
through a tangle of ferns and mosses and Manzenita 

brush on its way to the Pacific Ocean. 
14 



210 Memoirs of 

Mr. Cleveland enjoyed his afternoon at the Big Tree 
station. The largest tree in the grove is called "Inger- 
sol's Cathedral. ,, It is ninety-five feet in circum- 
ference and two hundred and sixty-eight feet high 
the "Giant" is sixty feet by three hundred; one bear- 
ing the likeness of an elephant's head is called "Jum- 
bo," and measures forty-eight feet by two hundred 
seventy, and "General Fremont" is forty-six feet by 
two hundred seventy-five. In this tree a trapper's 
family lived for a long time, and little children were 
born here, and General Fremont encamped here in 
1846. The superintendent of the grove entertained 
them with stories of his adventures with wildcats and 
cayotes and mountain lions. 

Mr. Cleveland's visit at San Jose was made memo- 
rable by a drive up Mt. Hamilton and a visit to the 
Lick Observatory on its summit, the highest point in 
the Coast range mountains — 4,443 feet above San Jose. 
The road is built by Santa Clara County and cost 
over one hundred thousand dollars. It turns three 
hundred and sixty-five times and the view is matchless. 
Twenty-one miles from San Jose in a little valley 
scooped out like a bowl in the heart of these mountains 
runs a little creek called Smith's Creek. Here stands 
the hotel where the Cleveland family dined and rested 
and took a relay of horses. The grade becomes very 
steep and the road can be seen at thirteen different 
points. They reached the top at a little before two 
o'clock but it rained and hailed; the wind was fearful 



fredertch Cleveland 21 1 

and a dense cloud enveloped the summit. The ob- 
servatory was donated by James Lick, a resident of 
Santa Clara County, wko lies buried beneath the great 
dome under the pier which supports the telescope. 
There were seventeen souls all told, professors and 
their families who lived on the little plateau, isolating 
themselves the year round to study the heavens. An 
inspection of the great telescope and other astronomi- 
cal instruments was very interesting and very instruc- 
tive. Just before three o'clock they began the descent. 
The clouds rolled away as they drove down the moun- 
tain and the view was magnificent — billow on billow 
of green mountain tops stretching for many miles, 
towering trees, and shrubs and rocks and ferns, and 
live oak with mistletoe, and sycamore with long gray 
moss. Away up in a tree was an eagle's nest, and a 
brace of quail ran into the brush by the roadside. 
Wildcat cayote and California lion are plentiful, and 
rattlesnakes, black spiders and centipedes abound. 
In the distance is Horse Shoe lake, a perfect likeness 
to the name it bears. Two large lakes glimmer in the 
sunset like burnished steel, hidden away between two 
green mountains, and further down, the mountain sides 
were pink and white with the blossoms of the peach 
and almond and prune and olive. Here and there a 
little white cottage nestles snugly in the shelter of the 
mountain, and innumerable windmills are turning in 
the breeze. All its water comes from its grand old 
mountains and the country is full of irrigating ditches. 



212 J^emoirs of 

It is a land of mountains and valleys; its mountains 

full of gold and silver and tin and coal mines, and its 

fertile valleys bearing every variety of choice fruit 

and nuts. 

Mr. Cleveland visited in San Francisco several 

weeks; during the time he and his family did a great 

deal of sight-seeing, from Nob Hill to Chinatown, 

visiting the last named place by night under the care 

of a detective, also visiting the Presbyterian mission 

for Chinese girls, the Presidio, a military reservation 

of fifteen thousand acres, and the different cemeteries; 

and they drove over to the Cliff House by way of 

Golden Gate Park stopping on the way back at Sutro 

Heights, the private grounds of one of California's 

multi-millionares. They spent a delightful day at San 

Raphael, fifteen miles from San Francisco, six by boat 

and nine by rail. It stands in a nest of the Coast 

Range mountains at the foot of grand old Tamilpais, 

which rears its peaked head over 2,600 feet high and 

forms a picturesque object in every outlook. It has 

a diversity of scenery — orange and almond groves, 

forest and mountain and glen. The Conti Madrance 

Creek, its borders decked with myriads of wild flowers, 

winds its way to the south, and in the near forest at 

the foot of the mountains are the homes of the wealthy 

San Franciscans, each living in the seclusion and luxury 

of an old baronial estate of the old world. 

On a triangle hill with mountains on three sides and 

canons diverging in all directions stands a Presbyterian 



f rederf ch Cleveland 213 

Theological seminary. It is of gray stone with turrets 
and towers and porticos and looks like a massive 
old castle as it looms up amid the foliage, with the 
mountains for its background and Tamilpais beyond, 
and a mountain stream called Bill Williams Creek, 
rolling down from a canon near by. They drove 
through the beautiful Ross valley, and in the middle 
of the afternoon took the steamer at Sauceleto, and 
steamed back over the bay to San Francisco. The 
waters glittering in the sunlight were alive with its 
various crafts coming and going. They passed Angel 
Island and Alcatras with its prison castle, and looked 
out to the Pacific waters through the Golden Gates. 
This trip was one long to be remembered. 

Mr. Cleveland left San Francisco for home early in 
April, returning over the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
They reached Salt Lake City in time to attend the 
dedicatory services of the great Mormon temple, then 
just completed. There were about seventeen thous- 
and people supposed to be present and they were by 
no means a distinguished class. After a few hours of 
sight-seeing they left for Glenwood Springs, going up 
the mountain through Spanish Fork Canon until they 
reached Castle Gate, the entrance way into Castle 
Canon. The scenery was exceedingly wild and they 
stayed up until quite late admiring the queer shaped 
and colored rocks overhanging the track, some- 
times resembling castles and domes and spires and 
colored in red and brown and gray. It was late 



214 lYTemofrs of 

when they retired and they were sound asleep at 
I a. m., when they were suddenly awakened by the 
lurching of the train and a quick stop. There was a 
wreck; the engine lay down in the river, the baggage 
car lay broken on its side, the front sleeper had its 
steps and four wheels taken off and the track was 
entirely torn up. They were still in the canon. The 
Grand river into which the engine had fallen was to 
the right side about twenty feet below. A wall of 
rock hundreds of feet high was on the left and a great 
boulder weighing perhaps 80,000 pounds lay directly 
across the road. The engineer saw the peril, shut off 
the brakes and jumped; the fireman went down with 
the engine into the river and was somewhat scalded but 
not fatally, and two men were slightly bruised. The 
accident occured a short distance from Utaline. Oppo- 
site on the rocks was a long white line; on one side 
was painted in large white letters "Utah," on the 
other side " Colorado/' Here they remained for 
twelve hours until the wreck was partly cleared away. 
This was a very "close call," and Mr. Cleveland was 
very much excited over it. He often spoke of how 
many times the Lord had led him almost to the bor- 
ders of the grave and then marvelously had led him 
out. They stopped over night at Glenwood Springs. 
It is an attractive place of 2,500 inhabitants, literally 
surrounded by mountains, forest-covered and snow- 
clad. It has a fine sanitarium and bath house, and a 
pool of hot salt and sulphur water covering nearly an 



f redertch Cleveland 215 

acre. They passed out from the town through the 
Grand river canon, a rift in the rocks eighteen miles 
long and exceedingly picturesque. The mountain wall 
looms up in gigantic towers and columns to a height 
of 2,000 feet while a torrent roars and plunges 
between. A long white veil of water falls down into 
the abyss from some mountain torrent, and the rocks 
are, many of them, a flaming red color. The sunlight 
only reaches the top of the pines, while the depth of 
the chasm is in everlasting shadow. About fifty miles 
from Glenwood Springs is Eagle River Canon. It is 
the heart of a great mining country and is the wierdest 
spot in the world, a rift in a wall of rock 2,500 feet 
high nearly perpendicular. The Eagle river winds 
over the rocks in a perpetual waterfall, mad and 
foamy, and a little village on top of the mountain 
looked like a toy village. The next day they went 
over Marshall Pass over two miles above sea level. 
The mountain is snow-covered and it was extremely 
cold. The view is sublime; away over to the north 
rises Mt. Ouray at an elevation of 14,000 feet and to 
the south are the snowy peaks of the Sangre de Christo 
(The Blood of Christ) over 14,000 feet high, the 
loftiest range of the Rockies. After coming down 
the mountains they went through the canon of the 
Arkansas and the Royal Gorge. The gorge is ten 
miles long. On each side is a mountain wall running 
perpendicularly up to nearly half a mile, while its 
dizzy pinnacles seem ready to fall upon the train. The 



2 1 6 jviemotrs of, 

Arkansas river roars in the bottom of the gorge to 
which no sunlight ever pierces, and all sight of entrance 
and exit is lost as the train winds and twists its way 
through. Suddenly the river crosses the path and a 
hanging bridge is thrown across, over which the train 
passes, and the engine utters a shrill whistle which 
echoes up the mountain wall. They reached Manitou 
Springs the same evening. This little city of 1,500 
inhabitants is surrounded by lofty mountain peaks with 
only a little outlet. The mountains are of a dull red 
color and wonderfully beautiful. Cheyenne mountain 
is on the left. In front of the Cliff House to the 
west, are two large boulders, one called Gog, the other 
Magog, and through a rift in the mountains the snow- 
white crest of Pike's Peak, the Monarch of the Rockies, 
is visible only nine miles away. There are canons 
and caves and mountain streams and mineral springs 
here, and the drives are very fine. One of the drives 
Mr. Cleveland took was to William's Canon, a rift 
barely wide enough for a carriage to pass through, 
past the "Cave of the Winds," up Ute Pass, past Rain- 
bow Falls and the different mineral springs and then 
they stopped at the "Grand Caverns. ,, The coloring 
in this cavern is varied. The stalactites and stalag- 
mites are white and pink, and those in the bridal cham- 
ber are exceedingly beautiful. There is a winding 
way called the Rio Grande, a dome, a concert hall and 
an organ with stalactite pipes on which two tunes were 
actually played. The caverns are far up the mountain 



f rcdertch Cleveland 217 

side. They stood and looked down into the canon and 
over the many mountain peaks, and watched a narrow- 
guage road winding in the pass and up through 
a tunnel, and the shriek of an engine as she slowly 
plunges in with her long train of freight and human 
souls is all that breaks the utter stillness. They visited 
the Garden of the Gods, a wonderful park of rocks, 
red and gray, the formation of which resemble ani- 
mals and mushrooms and birds of every variety. The 
Gateway, Balancing Rock and Echo Rock are very 
fine formations. They spent a day at Denver, and 
then hastened eastward reaching home a little after 
the middle of April. The journey "Over the Rockies" 
Mr. Cleveland never forgot. He had never crossed 
the sea but he was filled with awe when he thought 
upon the grandeur and sublimity of his own land and 
ready to exclaim with the sweet singer of old, 
"O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom 
hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy 
riches." 



218 J^Ientofrs of 



Chapter XX 
AT NORTHFIELD 

Only waiting till the angels 

Open wide the mystic gate, 
At whose feet I long have lingered, 

Weary, poor, and desolate. 
Even now I hear their footsteps, 

And their voices far away ; 
If they call me I am waiting — 

Only waiting to obey. 

Francis Laughton Mace. 

Northfield and its summer gatherings were so 
blessed a factor in the life of Mr. Cleveland that one 
cannot close this "record" without telling something of 
what they were to him. For twelve consecutive years 
he was there in the enjoyment of all their fullness. 
From 1885 until 1897 ^ s patient face beaming with 
love and devotion to God was a benediction to every 
guest at the convention. Everybody loved him and 
although generally accompanied by a valet, and 
always by wife and children, every one seemed to 
desire to do some little service for him, and he was 
always given the best seats at the meetings. The 
meetings were held during the first years, in Stone 
Hall to which, then, he could easily walk assisted by 
his valet or his wife, and sometimes he loved to start 
off alone. At first he was able to walk down to Mar- 



f rederf ch Cleveland 219 

quand Hall and back, but as the years went by and 
he grew more helpless he had to be wheeled about in 
the invalid's chair; his chair might be seen all over the 
grounds, on Round Top, beside the tents, down the 
drives and over the fields to Grandma Moody's. It 
seemed a part of the place itself. He revelled in 
the magnificent view from his chamber window. He 
and his family had occupied the same rooms at East 
Hall year in and year out and the same place at the 
table. His was a corner room overlooking the Con- 
necticut river, with slopes of meadow land rolling 
down to its banks. Its waters purling away under the 
vining elms and maples, reminds one of "the river of 
the water of life proceeding out of the throne of God 
and of the Lamb." Over on the western banks of 
the Connecticut are the green hills of Franklin 
county, while still beyond it and a little to the north- 
west are the dim outlines of the Green mountain 
peaks of Vermont. The river winds in its course and 
you get an extended view of its pelucid waters for 
miles -to the north, the bridge of the Vermont Central 
Railroad crossing it about two miles beyond, adding 
to its picturesqueness. Out of the north window is a 
view of the Winchester mountain, with billow on billow 
of New Hampshire peaks beyond, and to the east and 
directly behind the seminary buildings are Notch 
mountain and other near ranges. The buildings are 
large and substantially built, and seem to occupy just 
the right place. The preachers and teachers were 



220 jviemotra of 

always picked men from both sides the Atlantic ; many 
of them have dropped out the ranks, among them Dr. 
Marcus Rainsford, Dr. Brooks, of St. Louis, Professor 
Drummond and Dr. A. J. Gordon. Among all the 
speakers, however, Mr. Cleveland seemed to incline 
to Mr. Moody himself. He never tired of hearing 
him speak, nor of hearing Mr. Sankey sing. He loved 
both these men and any attention shown him by them 
was always much appreciated. He loved to visit 
Grandma Moody. She always had a pleasant greet- 
ing for him, and his affliction seemed to draw out her 
tenderest sympathies. He never grew old looking, 
his face had a sweet, restful expression and no one 
would have taken him for more than forty years of 
age. He met the Northfield friends year after year 
with a warm welcome, and even strangers stopped and 
spoke tenderly to him as he sat among them on the 
piazza or in the halls. He did not attend all the 
meetings, but was always there at the Auditorium in 
the morning (except the last year), and always at the 
open air meetings on Round Top at twilight. The last 
meeting he ever attended was at Northfield in August, 
1 897. It was to have been a twilight service, but there 
came up a thunder storm and it continued with great 
severity until after nine o'clock, and he was compelled 
to remain till it was over. It seemed as if the very 
heavens were flashing forth the power and majesty of 
God, and as if the artillery of the unseen world had 
been let loose, but he sat unmoved through it all, 



fredertch Cleveland 221 

knowing that underneath him were the Everlasting 
Arms. 

Every afternoon Mr. Cleveland took his accustomed 
nap and after this he frequently went for a drive. He 
was much interested in the Mt. Hermon School for 
Boys, and every year he drove over to it by way of 
the old scow ferry, returning by way of the bridge. He 
loved the drive over to Warwick. It was through a 
mountain pass most of the way and over a densely 
wooded road, with mountain peaks on every side. A 
trout brook ran down the ravine tumbling over rock 
and stone, and purling its way under twelve or fourteen 
rustic bridges, till it reached the meadow lands just 
east of Northfield. Another drive which he took 
every year was over Winchester mountain to Winches- 
ter village, returning to Northfield by way of Ashnelot 
river and Hillsdale. The road branched off to the 
east at a lonely little glen called "Lovers' Retreat." 
Here a trout brook crossed the road diagonally, wind- 
ing its way up under the trees whose foliage thickly 
overlocked above. One could get a grand glimpse 
up this little mountain stream with its moss covered 
rocks, against which its hurrying waters foam and fret. 
It is a beautiful spot. A cool breeze was always blow- 
ing here, and one had such a longing to rest on the 
bridge, watching the waters and listening to their ripple. 
The drive over Winchester mountain was very long 
and laborious, and the horses were frequently rested 
before they reached the summit. But what a view it 



222 ^emofrs of 

was with evergreen mountain peaks and dark ravines 
and dense forests! In the center of Winchester the 
road crossed the Ashuelot river and then turned to 
the left. Almost all the way down, the river rolls 
over rock and boulder. Its southern bank is a steep 
mountain side covered with evergreens and tall pines, 
which color the waters a dark rich green exceedingly- 
beautiful as it breaks in foaming spray. It was a 
drive of six miles in length upon the river bank. On 
the right side of the road is a similar embankment of 
pines and evergreens, and the many water courses 
trickling down its sides add to its marvelous beauty 
and give refreshment to man and beast. 

Mr. Cleveland was in full accord with the doctrinal 
teaching at Northfield. He believed in a whole Bible; 
a whole Christ, incarnate, crucified, risen and ascended, 
and in His literal return at any moment. The teach- 
ings on the Blessed Life as given by Murray and 
Meyer and Pebloe and others, met a hearty response 
in his own heart. It would be impossible to give an 
account of the meetings during the twelve years of 
Mr. Cleveland's summer visits at Norhtfield, yet two 
of them so deeply interested him, were so out of the 
ordinary line that one cannot help giving them men- 
tion before closing this record. They were what Mr. 
Moody called the Mothers' Meetings. The first was 
held on the lawn in front of Grandma Moody's old 
home. She sat in the doorway by the side of Mrs. 
P. L. Moody, her hair as white as the kerchief, and 



frederfch Cleveland 223 

apron she wore, her eyes beaming with joy and her 
face aglow with the radiance of Heaven. They sang 
the old hymns and tunes she loved long years ago; 
then came the voice of prayer and then followed tes- 
timonies of a mother's life and influence, and Mr. 
Cleveland sat near, looking into the face of the aged 
saint with tear-dimmed eyes, as he remembered his own 
precious mother. At the next meeting the scene was 
changed and they gathered about a new made grave, 
over four hundred men and women, some who had 
nearly "finished their course," some in the strength and 
vigor of early manhood and womanhood; little children 
with hushed voices and the babies of eight months, 
grandchildren of Dwight L. Moody, who sat upon the 
grass beside the grave. There, just as the sun was 
setting beyond the hills on the other side of the Con- 
necticut they met together and sang again the old 
hymns she loved, to the old tunes of long ago; they 
read from the old Book she loved and then gray- 
haired men from our own land and from over the sea, 
stood up and again was heard earnest testimony to 
a sainted mother's influence. Mr. Moody gave the 
opening words, told of what his mother had done for 
him (it was about her grave they gathered), how her 
bright and sunny and patient life had made their 
humble home so beautiful. Her trust in God had 
ever been unwavering even when the larder was about 
empty and the fires had burned low; and but for her 
influence, he said* " these : buildings (pointing to the 



224 Ncwolrs of 

massive buildings on each side of the river) "would 
never have been erected, for what I am and whatever 
the Lord has permitted me to do I owe to my mother's 
influence." F. B. Meyer spoke of his gentle, timid 
mother, who though she rarely spoke about her 
Saviour, yet she lived for Him moment by moment 
through every day of her life; and then Dr. Pierson 
spoke of the missionary spirit of his dear mother, how 
she had early taught him the commandment of the 
risen Christ "Go ye into all the world and preach 
the gospel to every creature," and had inculcated 
in his young life a yearning desire for the work. 
He spoke touchingly of her passing away; how, in 
his own home, after more than four score years and 
ten, one early morning she fell asleep in Jesus with- 
out a doubt or a fear or a misgiving. It was a solemn 
hour! an impressive service! 

The summer of 1897 had come. Mr. Cleveland 
had lost very much during the past year. He was 
not able to stand alone; not able to occupy the old 
room on the second floor but he was given one on the 
main floor, and he gained two pounds during his three 
weeks at Northfield. It was to be his last summer on 
earth, for the last time his chair was wheeled over to 
the Auditorium and up on the dear old Round Top. 
For the last time he was to look down upon the river 
with its glimmering waters and shady banks, for in a 
few short weeks his poor tired feet would cross the 
rrver of death. It is so blessed that we cannot know, 






frederfcfc Cleveland 225 

cannot lift the veil that hides the future! and yet this 

dear child of God was ready to take the journey in 

God's own time. The same sweet smile would have 

greeted his many friends, the same handful of sweet 

peas would have been thoughtfully purchased for the 

dear wife, morning by morning, and every little word 

and deed would have been the same. It would have 

made no difference to him. But the last day at 

Northfield had come and he was to leave it forever. 

He was delighted at the thought of going home, and 

as he sat waiting on the porch for the carriage he 

called out merrily to Mr. Sankey, who was crossing 

the porch, and said, "Good-bye, Mr. Sankey, good-bye 

at last." Mr. Sankey stopped, spoke a few words to 

him, taking his hand and bidding him good-bye, and 

then he said in an undertone to Mrs. Cleveland, "It 

looks like a last good-bye.' ' Mr. Cleveland heard the 

words and spoke of it to his wife, but she would not 

have it so and she put the thought behind her back, 

reminding him that they had long feared he would 

leave them, but he was still there and she hoped they 

would be together yet for years. It would not be 

possible to tell what Northfield had been to him and 

his family, but up yonder where the record is kept 

we shall know all. 

O life ! O silent shore 
Where we sit patient ! O great sea beyond 
To which we turn with solemn hope and fond, 

But sorrowful no more ! 
A little while and then we, too, shall soar 
Like white-winged sea-birds into the Infinite Deep. 
Till then, Thou, Father, wilt our spirits keep. 

Dinah Mulock Craik. 
15 



226 l^Iewotrs of 



Chapter XXI 
1896 

A little bird I am, 

Shut from the fields of air; 
And in my cage I sing and sing 

To Him who placed me there ; 
Well pleased a prisoner to be 
Because, my God, it pleases Thee. 

****** 

My cage confines me round ; 

Abroad I cannot fly ; 
But, though my wing is closely bound, 

My heart's at liberty; 
My prison walls cannot control 
The flight, the freedom of the soul. 

Madame Guyon. 

The year 1896 opened out with very favorable pros- 
pects to the family at Greyledge. Mr. Cleveland's 
head trouble was completely healed during the month 
of May, and his delight over it was unbounded. His 
invalid's chair was ever the center of attraction to his 
family and no helpless infant ever received more 
devoted attention than did he, yet none of his 
children ever forgot the deference and respect due 
him as a good and wise father. It was a beautiful 
sight to see them all, grown to manhood and woman- 
hood now, going to him for advice and comfort, and 
to see the little grandchildren clustering about the 
chair reaching upon tiptoe for the kiss of welcome or 



o- — 



o 



— o 





o 



o 




— 1 






I *< 




o 



- -o 



THE FAMILY GROUP 



frederfck Cleveland 227 

farewell. He never grew weary of the little ones, 
they seemed to rest and refresh him. He loved to 
have them held upon his lap while with his left arm — 
the only one he could use — he lovingly caressed each 
one. How much there is in the history of every life 
that can not be written ! how many pictures in the 
great panorama of life can never be painted! They 
looked upon him and marvelled — he seemed to have 
a charmed life but it had hung upon a thread for 
years. Friends, neighbors and physicians had all 
prophesied of him that he would soon pass from earth, 
yet he was spared while many of them had passed out 
into the unseen world themselves. The family did 
not dare to think of the future, they just enjoyed his 
society for the present time and let the future alone. 

In the spring of this year he visited, in company 
with his wife, his youngest son then in the Adiron- 
dacks. It was in a wierd little nook on the banks of 
the Moose river at a lumber station called "McKee- 
ver." The great saw mill interested them both very 
much and it reminded Mr. Cleveland of his early home 
in Louisiana, and the dark waters of the Moose river, 
reflecting most beautifully on its surface the thickly 
foliaged banks, carried him back to the limpid waters 
of Bayou Chene in the early sixties. The primitive 
style of living there was a pleasant change for him 
and he returned to Albany after his visit quite 
refreshed. 

During the middle of June occurred an event that 



228 jviemofrs of 

was very startling to the Cleveland family. In the 
early part of his life Mr. Cleveland had had an acci- 
dent which had brought upon him an abdominal rup- 
ture. As he had always been cautious it had never 
troubled him but through the thoughtlessness of an 
attendant, who had neglected to take the accustomed 
precaution, the old trouble returned and he speedily 
drifted into strangulated hernia. No manipulations 
nor hot nor cold applications were effectual and the 
consulting physicians said he could not live forty- 
eight hours as he was, and they advised an immediate 
operation as the only hope. When Mrs. Cleveland 
informed her husband of the result of the consultation 
he said to her, "I do not think I shall live through an 
operation, but if there is no other way, no other hope, 
and you wish it, I am willing to try." The children, 
who were in the city, were hastily summoned and on 
Sabbath afternoon at three o'clock the four physicians 
betook themselves to the operation while the wife 
betook herself to prayer. Many a time had the Lord 
heard and helped in the hour of extremity and surely 
he would hear her now. Whether He helped with the 
physicians' hand or otherwise it mattered not, her cry 
was like the cry of the Syrophenician woman: "Lord, 
help me," and He did. The anxious waiting family 
across the hall from the operating room soon received 
the glad tidings that all displacement had disappeared 
without the knife and Mr. Cleveland passed out from 
under the effects of the chloroform hardly knowing 



frederich Cleveland 229 

whether he was in his earthly home or in his heavenly. 
He rapidly recovered and in a few days he was driv- 
ing about the city again in his usual health. 

About the middle of July he lost a dear little grand- 
child, the youngest of the flock. It was an extremely 
hot summer. The baby was brought up to Greyledge 
hoping that the good, fresh air there might be a bene- 
fit to her, but there seemed to be no breeze anywhere 
that summer. From early in the morning until in the 
evening, the little one swung out in the hammock 
under the trees, the white face growing thinner each 
day, and beside the hammock stood the invalid's 
chair, its occupant looking on with sorrowful, sympa- 
thetic heart, using his feeble strength to help swing 
the hammock. All that love and skill could do for 
her was done, but one July afternoon she passed away 
to the arms of Jesus and they laid her to rest beside 
the grave of her little brother in the family lot in the 
Albany Rural Cemetery. Two granite stones mark 
the two little graves, one bearing the name of "New- 
comb," the other of " Helen ;" both children of New- 
comb and Clara Mather Cleveland and grandchildren 
of Frederick and Gertrude M. Cleveland. 

Two within that sweeter home 
Have no need of earthly prayer; 

There with angel song they roam 
Through the pastures green and fair. 

Well I know the Shepherd's hand 
Led them home in tender love ; 

Mine is sure a blessed band, 
Two on earth and two above. 

Emily C. Huntington* 



230 Memoirs of 

Shortly after baby's death the family went to North- 
field, taking with them the bereaved young mother. 
They had expected, also, to visit the White mountains 
but Mr. Cleveland became homesick and he came 
directly back to Greyledge at the close of the conven- 
tion, while Mrs. Cleveland and her daughter's trip 
through the mountains was shortened to a few days. 
The autumn days came and went and the holiday 
season was upon them again, a season full of pleasant 
memories and happy reunions. They had spent the 
Thanksgiving Day of 1896 at Fernfalls, the old home 
of his father and mother Van Vranken, and under the 
old roof had gathered together four generations from 
the aged great-grand parents of eighty years to the 
merry little great-grandchildren of five and three. It 
was a day long to be remembered. The last Thanks- 
giving Day Mr. Cleveland would ever spend on earth. 
On Christmas Day there was always a happy reunion 
at Greyledge. Grandpa and grandma Van Vranken 
had left their home and would spend the winter with 
the Clevelands and Mr. Cleveland was rejoiced, for the 
genial old man was always ready to join him in his 
parlor games, and his jovial stories were ever a source 
of amusement. The eldest daughter and her family 
had never been at home on Christmas since she left 
the old roof tree, but all the others were present and 
the Christmas tree was as much of a success as it had 
ever been. In all the thirty-three years, Mr. Cleveland 
had never forgotten the anniversary of his marriage 



frederfcfc Cleveland 231 

day, and whether in adversity or prosperity some 
valued gift had been presented to his wife in honor of 
that event, bearing the date of December 21st. The 
year of 1896 was no exception to the rule. In his 
helplessness he had made the selection assisted by his 
daughter and a large and beautiful Chinese gong had 
been presented to his wife, with as much grace and 
courtesy as it would have been presented in the year 
1863, and with more. It was his last gift. They did 
not know what the coming year would bring him; 
they did not know what a cloud hung over the happy 
home at Greyledge. How could they? A veil hung 
over the empty chair, over the vanished face, over the 
silent voice, and so they joined in the merriment of 
the hour with all their hearts. O, merciful God, 'tis 
better so! 

I cannot see, with my small human sight, 
Why God should lead this way or that for me ; 
I only know He saith, " Child, follow me ;" 
But I can trust. 

* * * * * * 

I may not draw aside the mystic veil 
That hides the unknown future from my sight ; 
Nor know if for me waits the dark or light ; 
But I can trust. 

I have no power to look across the tide, 
To see while here the land across the river ; 
But this I know, I shall be God's forever ; 
So I can trust. 

Selected, 



232 JVUmofrs of 



Chapter XXII 



THE LAST YEAR 

I cannot tell why, when the day seemed clearest, 

Dark clouds should lower : 
Nor why the hopes that my fond heart held dearest 

Failed in that hour: 
But this I know ; though God His why and wherefore 

Does not disclose, 
His purposes are ever best, and therefore 

My Jesus knows. 

****** 

Many the treasures that we mourn departed 

From our fond hold, 
Leaving us desolate and broken-hearted, 

With griefs untold ! 
We cannot fathom yet the why and wherefore 

Of joys or woes, 
But our dear Lord does ever right and therefore 

My Jesus knows. 

Selected. 

Mr. Cleveland had now crossed the threshold of his 
last year on earth. Like the old soldier, Paul, he 
could have said "The hour of my departure is at hand. 
I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, 
I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for 
me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
righteous judge shall give me at that day." After 
many a name has the record been written for the com- 
ing year, "The last year on earth ;" but what matters 



frederich Cleveland 233 

it if the journey is an upward one? for then to be 
absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. 
The New Year of 1897 dawned upon him with seem- 
ingly but little change. He had a slight cold and 
some asthmatic symptoms, but he walked and drove 
about as usual and no one felt at all alarmed. On 
the second week in January he was at the funeral of a 
friend and neighbor, in, comparative health. On the 
1 8th his daughter Maude left home expecting to spend 
the remainder of the winter in Florida. It was not 
deemed best for him to accompany her to the depot, 
and two days later, while playing a parlor game beside 
the grate fire in the library, he was taken with a severe 
chill. The physician was hastily summoned and he 
was kept in bed for several days. He seemed rapidly 
to improve, however, and he was given a short drive 
on the following Sabbath at the advice of his physician. 
He seemed to be utterly exhausted on his return home, 
and asked to be put to bed; another chill followed 
and he speedily drifted into pneumonia. The pulse 
went* up to 114, the temperature to 104 4-5, and for 
days he lay between life and death. His wife — his 
private attendant — a trained nurse and the two physi- 
cians fought for the life both day and night but it 
seemed as if the battle would be lost. Could the 
poor, wasted, helpless body pull through pneumonia? 
It did not seem possible. One Saturday noon, just 
when the pulse beat quickest and the temperature was 
the highest there went over the wires to the two 



234 ^lemofre of 

daughters in Florida this message: " Father's chance 
of recovery doubtful; doctors advise your immediate 
presence. ,, And the reply came back: "No train till 
Monday and M. at Nassau." Two hours later another 
message came with these words: "Will leave on 
special train to-night/ ' Would she reach home before 
the beloved father had taken his last journey? It was 
doubtful — surely, M. would not be there, no one but 
wife and sons, but they worked, and watched and 
waited. His mind wandered at times. He did not 
know that he was ill; did not want to lie in bed and 
looking appealingly to his wife he would ask her when 
she would take him to the cemetery, while she felt in 
her heart that all too soon the poor wasted body would 
be there. The days went by and to the amazement 
of friend and physician he slowly began to improve. 
The daughters came home and the one returned to her 
family again; the sons went back to business and Mr. 
Cleveland's recovery was quite as rapid as could be 
expected. His brother came up from New York and 
calling upon him thought him looking quite well 
indeed — better than usual. There was one thing they 
could not understand, however — as soon as he was 
put to bed each night he uttered the most pitiful 
moans; had done so for months; sometimes he was 
conscious, but it was usually while he slept. They 
could be heard all through the house and out on the 
lawn. There seemed to be a pressure on the brain, 
although he did not suffer at all and rested well at 



fredertch Cleveland 235 

night. One morning on the last day of May at four 
o'clock he said to his wife, "Mamma, I am blind." 
She had turned him in bed several times during the 
night and was very tired and sleepy, and she thought 
he imagined it, so taking the poor emaciated hand in 
her own she said "Papa, you only think so, it is early 
now, take another nap!" and he was soon asleep again. 
How often during the long nights of invalidism has 
the poor wasted hand sought for the hand of his wife, 
and as soon as it rested in hers he would fall asleep 
as peacefully as a little child would sleep on the 
bosom of its mother. He slept quietly that morning 
for an hour, and then awakened his wife again with 
the same words. She leaned over and looked into his 
face but he seemed to be dozing and she, too, fell 
asleep. A little later, when the valet came in to 
dress him he was seized with nausea and in looking 
into his face they saw that his eyes were crossed and 
he was indeed blind. It was evident that he had had 
another shock of paralysis. The physician, hastily 
summoned, thought it indigestion and possibly a 
slight shock. After a couple of weeks he fully 
recovered his eyesight and seemed himself again. 

On the 10th of June there was an all-days' meeting 
at Nassau, Rensselaer county, N. Y., in which his 
wife had promised to assist. The morning was rainy 
but every arrangement was made for him to drive out 
to the afternoon meeting in case it cleared off. He 
knew his wife was to speak, and so anxious was he to 



236 Memoirs of 

go that he took his nap and luncheon in the middle 
of the morning, reaching Nassau before noon. It 
proved to be a lovely day. The sweet face in the 
front seat was an inspiration to his wife and it lit up 
with joy as he listened to her words. When luncheon 
was served a little after twelve o'clock the ladies of 
the church discovered that the founder and manufac- 
turer of Cleveland's baking powder was present; they 
were eager to know him and could not do enough to 
make it pleasant for him. He had a royal welcome 
there and returned home with the remembrance of a 
delightful day at the little village of Nassau. 

Another beautiful day in his life was one day in 
June when the missionaries at the Home and Training 
School for Christian Workers were guests at his home. 
There were thirty of them present. He was the only 
gentleman but he entered into all their pleasures, not 
forgetting the little compliments and courtesies that 
characterized his early life. He sat on the lawn with 
them, or in his favorite seat in the bay window, and 
when supper was served, while he enjoyed the care- 
fully prepared dishes himself, he looked about to see 
if others were remembered. He was a right royal 
host. His was the open hand, the generous heart; 
ever mindful of the little things that make up so much 
of life. 

He wanted to go over to Bath-on-the-Hudson a 
week afterward to an all-days' meeting there and did 
so, but he became very restless and had to leave the 



frederfch Cleveland 237 

meeting. All through July the restlessness continued. 
He could not keep on his chair and had to be continu- 
ally lifted up. It was difficult for him to drive as he 
was constantly slipping off the seat and at night the 
moans increased. A motto hung in his room with 
these words "Sweet Rest in Heaven." Often he 
would read it over and say Sweet Rest in Heaven and 
I am so tired — so tired! There was no pain but an 
utter exhaustion, a giving out inch by inch. One 
thing after another that once pleased him was laid 
aside. He lost interest in private business matters, in 
his parlor games, in reading or being read to, although 
he never gave up the reading of the Bible. He sat 
much on the lawn with his wife and they very often 
talked together of the King's business. "Mamma," 
he said one day to her with a pleading look upon his 
face "why could you not let me go? I am so tired." 
But she shook her head and taking her hand he ex- 
claimed "If you only could go with me!" "You are 
not afraid to die?" she asked. "O no! not one bit 
afraid ! I shall meet our children and mother. Poor 
mother! I caused her great sorrow I know; how 
sorry I am that I did not do differently; but she for- 
gave me and so did God." And then with a sorrowful 
look upon his face he added "Mine has been such a 
wasted life." "No, "she said, "not wasted, you have 
made a beautiful Christian home for your family; you 
have tried to train your children for God; you have 
tried to lead many a soul to Christ and then your 



238 jviemofrs of 

patient submission to God's will during your long 
years of invalidism has been a blessed example and 
an influence for the Lord." A pleased expression lit 
up his face, and she added as she looked into it 
"Papa, you have made us all better/' Yes, Jesus 
knows what we have tried to do for him. He knows 
what we have desired to do, and when we stand 
before the Great White Throne the reward will be 
not for what we really did, but for what we desired to 
do. 

He spent three weeks at Northfield and came back 
somewhat improved. On his return he told his 
attendant that he was glad he had gone but he knew 
that he should never go there again, and he said, 
"Joseph, I have caused you a great deal of care and 
trouble I know, haven't I?" 

In the early part of September he drove out to 
Fernfalls with his wife and a friend who was visiting 
them. The visit with his father and mother Van 
Vranken was unusually pleasant and he enjoyed the 
dinner very much. After his afternoon nap his wife 
went in the room to take him up. She found him 
awake and deeply thinking. When he saw her he 
said, with a delighted expression, "Gertie, your father 
and mother are going to give up the old home, and 
your father says they are coming to stay with us as 
long as they live, won't it be nice to have them back 
again?" Alas! before they came back to Greyledge, 
he had left forever his earthly home and had entered 



frederfch Cleveland 239 

his heavenly. It was his last visit at Fernfalls. His 
feet were nearing the portals of the better land and 
already the gates of pearl were opening to let him in. 

Some day my earthly house will fall ; 

I cannot tell how soon 'twill be, 
But this I know — my All in All 

Has now a place in Heaven for me. 

Some day when fades the golden sun 

Beneath the rosy tinted west 
My blessed Lord shall say " Well done," 

And I shall enter into rest 
And I shall see Him face to face, 
And tell the story — Saved by Grace. 

F. J. Crosby, 



240 jviemofre of 



Chapter XXIII 



FOREVER WITH THE LORD 



Dear patient heart ! You longed for peace and rest. 

Your weary hands lie folded on your breast ! 

Did unseen hands clasp yours along the way 

So shadow-filled ? And angel watchers stay 

So close about you that our love was vain 

To woo and win you back to earth again ? 

Beyond the river on the other shore, 

This world's sad pain can touch you nevermore. 

One less at home ! 
One voice of welcome hushed, and evermore 
One farewell word unspoken ; on the shore 
Where parting comes not, one soul landed more, 

One more in Heaven ! 

Selected. 



It was plain to be seen that Mr. Cleveland was surely- 
drifting away from all earthly scenes. The guests at 
the home noticed a change before the family did. He 
spoke once again of his going but the wife said she 
could not give him up; that while she was grateful to 
God for sparing him through so many years, yet it 
seemed as if she could have given him up more easily 
when he was first stricken, than she could then and she 
asked him what he thought was the reason. "Well, 
mamma," he said, "it is this, you have had so much 



frederfcfc Cleveland 241 

care of me for so many years that you would miss me 
now more than you would have missed me then." 
His face looked as fresh and fair as if he were but 
thirty years old and there was not a gray hair in his 
head. His wife's hair was as white as snow, and 
although he was more than three years her senior yet 
she had been frequently taken for his mother. 

On the second Sabbath previous to his death he 
asked his wife if she thought he could go to church. 
"No," she said, "you cannot walk and you would have 
to be carried in by the two men and it would look so 
strange, wouldn't it?" He gave her such a pleading 
look that her heart was nearly broken and she ex- 
claimed, "O, papa, if you only could walk!" "Well, 
mamma," he said, "I'll never walk again till I get to 
heaven." 

On the 23d of September Mrs. Cleveland went with 
a guest to dine at the house of a friend. He drove 
down to the city with them, returning alone with the 
coachman, pleased with a new foot-rest that had been 
given him so that he did not slip off the seat as he 
had done previously. A little before five o'clock a 
messenger came for his wife saying that he had had 
an unconscious attack while playing a parlor game 
with his attendant. Although he had had these sink- 
ing spells for years yet they had now become more 
frequent and this one lasted so long that his daughter, 
becoming alarmed, had sent for the physician and 

her mother. On Mrs. Cleveland's return she found 
16 



242 Flcmotrs of 

him conscious and seemingly quite comfortable, and 
the next morning he was dressed and in his place at 
the table, but he seemed so drowsy; would drop 
asleep on his chair at any time, and he strangled fre- 
quently. On Saturday morning while his wife was 
in the kitchen, canning and pickling, he was wheeled 
out by her and he tried to render her assistance but 
stopped and said he was too tired. His son's wife 
and children spent the day with them and they spoke 
of a great change in him. That evening meal was 
the last one he took with his family. Mrs. Cleveland 
was not well herself, and when they drove her son's 
family home she went down with them. As soon as 
she left he became extremely restless, and had his 
daughter wheel him all through the lower part of the 
house. When she returned they sat a little while 
together chatting and then the hour came for him to 
be carried to bed. He bade each one good-night, 
calling them by name and waving "good-night" with 
his left hand. It was his last journey up stairs. He 
passed a restless night, in the middle of the morning 
was seized with a violent choking spell, after which 
he fell into a stupor lasting five or six hours. When 
he awakened, the family were about his bed and he 
seemed to be very much pleased. He looked at his 
faithful attendant, to whom he was devotedly attached, 
and then turning to look at his wife, he said, 
"Mamma, what will you do with Joseph after I am 
gone?" and she answered, "I'm going to keep you" 



fredertch Cleveland 243 

The physicians said it was gastric fever; the tempera- 
ture was not high, nor the pulse rapid, but he was too 
weak to battle through it. This illness was the only- 
time in which he said he felt sick, and when his wife 
asked him if he were in pain, he said "O yes," and 
pointed to his head. A few days later as she sat by 
his bedside trying to write an important business let- 
ter to an old friend of Waukegan she said to him: 
"What shall I say to Judge Clarke for you?" "Tell 
him," he said, "that I am going soon, and that I am 
glad to leave the interests of my family out there in 
such good hands as those of my old friend, Judge 
Clarke." He asked the physician on Thursday how 
long he had to lie in bed, and on Friday, when told 
that his tongue looked better, he expressed his pleas- 
ure. On Friday night he was very restless and early 
on Saturday there was a rattling in his chest as if he 
had taken cold. The son went to business and the 
daughter went to attend to some domestic duties 
about the house. He was shaven and had a partial 
bath and change of underwear. When his wife 
went to breakfast he took the hand of his faithful 
attendant and he said "Joseph, I'm going to heaven; 
will you promise to meet me there?" These were 
the last words he uttered, his last service on earth, to 
lead a soul to Christ. As Mrs. Cleveland sat by the 
bedside a little later she noticed while they were 
changing his garments that there was a blue spot upon 
his thigh where he had had a bruise. In a moment 



244 Memoirs of 

the thought came to her that it was death and a great 
wave of anguish swept over her as she felt that all 
hope was now forever gone. She had hoped on 
through all Many times he had been brought to the 
very brink of the grave and then came back to them, 
and she had hoped it might be so now. The physi- 
cian was sent for and the son and daughter came to 
his bf dside. As his daughter came into the room he 
turned his head and as their eyes met a sweet, heavenly 
smile lit up his face. Just before the last he lifted up 
the poor wasted hand and turned the Masonic ring 
upon his finger until he saw the symbols (he had often 
expressed a desire that the eldest son should have 
this ring, and he undoubtedly thought of it at this 
time), then he stroked his beard as was his habit; his 
hand rested upon his breast, and with one look at his 
loved ones he closed his eyes forever to earthly scenes. 
Great drops of sweat were upon his brow and the 
breathing became slower and slower. At fifteen min- 
utes before ten on the morning of October 2d, 1897 
he fell asleep in Jesus. One long drawn breath and 
all was over. There was one by his bedside who 
would have gladly gone with him if she could, but O, 
the solitariness of the last journey! They wept about 
his bedside in silence fearing that the least sign of 
grief might trouble his last moments, but so quietly 
did he pass away that they hardly knew when he had 
gone. Often in the days of old when the first symp- 
toms- of- paralysis came upon him, he had prayed at 



frederfch Cleveland 245 

morning worship that he might retain his reason till 
the day of his death, and that he might go to his 
heavenly home from his earthly, surrounded by his 
family. Although the two older children were absent, 
the two younger children and his wife were there and 
thus God heard and answered his prayer. Early that 
morning the wires bore the sad message of their 
bereavement to the older children and they reached 
home early on Sabbath morning. Other relatives 
came later on, reaching the stricken home on the day 
of the funeral. Never can the family forget the lov- 
ing sympathy of the friends in their beloved church. 
The pastor and elders came with a request that the 
funeral services should be held at the church, but the 
house was large and commodious and the family pre- 
ferred it there. The Masons requested a masonic 
burial but it was so long since he had been with them 
that the family thought it not best, so the services 
were held on Tuesday, October 5th, at his home at 
Greyledge. His valued friend, D. L. Moody, held 
the first service at one o'clock, the family and a few 
near relatives and friends only being present. Mr, 
Moody said that when he saw Mr. Cleveland the pre- 
vious summer at Northfield, he did not think that he 
would be here much longer. The service was very 
impressive. He read a few choice selections from 
the Bible and then he spoke of the glory into which 
the dear one had entered; of the joy that was now 
his and of the hope of the coming of the Lord, when 



246 Memoirs of 

the body sown in corruption should be raised in glory 
and we should "be caught up together with Him to 
meet the Lord in the air." He closed the service with 
an earnest petition to God for the stricken family and 
friends. At three o'clock the regular service was held 
by the Rev. Dr. A. V. V. Raymond, as Mr. Cleveland 
had requested two years previous, and it was closed 
by a most impressive prayer by his pastor, Dr. D. O. 
Mears. Elder A. S. Kibbee and his daughter sang 
the words of the beautiful hymn "The Christian's 
Good night," and Mr. Van Wert sang "The Home of 
my Childhood." The large concourse that filed by 
the casket and looked into the sweet face of the sleeper 
— the old employees, the many old family servants, 
the large number of friends who filled the spacious 
rooms, and the crowds upon the lawn, and the many 
who stood by the roadside watching with tear-dimmed 
eyes as the solemn procession moved out the gates, 
testified of the love and reverence in which Mr. Cleve- 
land was held. He was not only a devoted husband 
and father and friend and a kind and considerate 
employer, but his hand was also ever open to the 
poor and needy. As the casket was borne to the 
grave, the setting sun burst out in the fulness of splen- 
dor, gilding the top of the great monument, lighting up 
the angel and the child, casting a halo around the face 
of the statue of little Bertha and flashing down his 
parting rays upon the group about the tomb — the 
stricken family and relatives and friends. Then came 



fredcrtch Cleveland 247 

the solemn burial service by the pastor. As the cas- 
ket was lowered in the grave, Mr. A. S. Kibbee and 
his daughter started the favorite hymn of Mr. Cleve- 
land's: "In the Sweet Bye and Bye," and as one by 
one took it up it seemed as if he had been wafted to 
heaven with the voice of song. When all was over 
his daughters and his little grandchildren covered the 
grave with beautiful flowers and they left him there. 

M Until the day break and the shadows flee away." 

Sleep on beloved, sleep and take thy rest ; 
Lay down thy head upon the Savior's breast ; 
We love thee well, but Jesus loves thee best. 
Good night ! Good night ! Good night ! 

Until the shadows from this earth are cast, 
Until He gathers in His sheaves at last, 
Until the twilight gloom be overpast — 

Good night ! Good night ! Good night ! 

Until the Easter glory lights the skies, 
Until the dead in Jesus shall arise, 
And He shall come — but not in lowly guise — 
Good night ! Good night ! Good night ! 

Only " Good night," beloved— not " Farewell!' 
A little while and all His saints shall dwell 
In hallowed union indivisible. 

Good night ! Good night ! Good night ! 

Until we meet again before His throne, 
Clothed in the spotless robe He gives His own, 
Until we know even as we are known — 

Good night ! Good night ! Good night ! 

Selected* 



248 



J^emofra of 



Chapter XXIV 



IN MEMORIAM 



At the funeral, held at Greyledge, Albany, the family 
residence, October 5th, 1897, R ev - A. V. V. Ray- 
mond, D.D. had charge, assisted by Mr. Cleveland's 
pastor, Rev. D. O. Mears, D.D. 

Address by Dr. A. V. V. Raymond 

It is difficult to realize that the event, which seemed 
so near for years that it could never have come unex- 
pectedly, has come at last, and Elder Cleveland has 
gone home. As one who knew and honored him in 
life I am here to pay a tribute of affection to his 
memory. Yet I can speak of him only as I have 
known him during the period of his increasing physi- 
cal infirmities. It was a necessity of his bodily afflic- 
tion that he should retire from the large place which 
in earlier life he held in the business world; so that 
when our acquaintance began ten years ago it was not 
my privilege to know him as a man of affairs, but I 
early learned from others of the energy and ability 
that had brought commercial success, and above all of 
the strict integrity, the keen sense of honor which 
had always characterized his dealings and had gained 
general respect for his character as a man and a 



frederlcb Cleveland 249 

Christian, so that the thought of what he had been 
in the days of his activity only increased the respect 
with which we regarded him in the days of his forced 
retirement. 

It was characteristic of the man that when forced 
in the providence of God to surrender the large 
responsibilities of commercial life, he should devote 
the energy that remained, to the Church of Christ. 
While yet in the full vigor of life he had been chosen 
to the office of Ruling Elder, and since this is a dis- 
tinctively spiritual office, this fact attests the recogni- 
tion of the church of the depth and sincerity of his 
religious life. His devotion to the concerns of the 
soul began when life was large and full and free and 
he but carried over to the narrower sphere the high 
purposes and aims, the loyalty to Christ already his. 
Of his devotion to the church in these later years 
it is difficult to speak without emotion, as the memory 
of it all crowds upon us. With a body so crippled 
that he could not move without difficulty, he was yet 
among the most persistent and faithful in the dis- 
charge of his duties. Who among us can forget his 
fidelity? Who among us has not wondered at the 
strength of purpose that never failed though physical 
energies grew weaker and weaker? He faltered not 
before any duty that belonged to his office, even when 
it called him to the arduous work of family visitation. 
There are many homes that will miss him. From how 
many of them during my pastorate did I learn of the 



250 jviemofrs of 

comfort and blessing which his presence had brought. 
The old church which he loved so passionately has 
had many faithful servants (what a glorious company 
of the elect they form — was ever a church more 
blessed?) but among them all no name stands for a 
purer heart and life, a more unselfish spirit, more 
persistent service than that of Elder Frederick Cleve- 
land. Of how few can it be said more truly than of 
him that he held his substance as a trust from God to 
be used for his glory. His was the open hand of a 
cheerful giver, and as his own life grew narrower in 
its activities his sympathies seemed to grow larger, his 
usefulness more extended, for his gifts went to the 
support of many causes. Surely he has heard the 
words "Well done good and faithful servant * * * 
Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
these ye have done it unto me; enter thou into the 
joy of thy Lord." Such is the life that has gone to its 
reward. The greatness appears in its humble service, 
its devotion to the great ends of righteousness. A 
living stone has been built in the temple of God upon 
earth, and by so much is the Kingdom of God nearer. 
"Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord. Yea, 
saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors 
and their works do follow them." A living stone in 
God's temple abides, its place is fixed, its mission 
never ends. "The memory of the just is blessed." 
The memory that lives in our hearts to-day is itself 
a blessing to our souls. How true must this be, 



f rederf ch Cleveland 251 

especially for the members of this Christian family, 
this church in the house. A sanctifying influence has 
been here through all the years that have drawn so 
largely upon your sympathetic ministries. The devo- 
tion of your loving hearts has not been without a rich 
reward in the deepening of the current of your own 
lives, the strengthening of your own faith and hope 
and love. And the end is not yet. Your Father 
which seeth in secret, who knows all the hidden 
patience and gentleness and loving service will 
reward openly in the day of revelation. 

The following words of sympathy and condolence 
were presented to the family, by the Session of the 
church, a few days after Mr. Cleveland's death: 

Again in the providence of God, the Session of 
the Fourth Presbyterian Church adds to the lengthen- 
ing roll of its saintly departed, another name, honored 
and beloved — Frederick Cleveland. The intense loy- 
alty of Elder Cleveland to our fellowship; his large and 
liberal spirit; his eminent ability and excellent judg- 
ment; his unflagging zeal in whatever he undertook; 
all these characteristics held by a faith alike trustful 
and beautiful, and affectionately carried out in prac- 
tice made him a tower of strength. The same quali- 
ties that gave him such a distinguished place in busi- 
ness were equally evident in his Christian life. His 
piety, like that of a child, commanded the respect and 
affection of all who knew him, while his naturalness 
and depth made his very name a power. During all 



252 



JVIcmofrs of 



these later years of physical infirmities his spiritual 
life suffered no eclipse or dimness. His presence in 
our services of worship were eloquent of his undying 
hope. Were all the membership of any Christian 
church like him, there would never be an empty seat. 
Bodily weakness was but to touch the candlestick; it 
did not keep his Christian light from shining in its 
fullness. Whatever in morals and religion tended to 
make men better became his inspiration. 

He loved the city of his adoption and was beloved 
in return. The men nearest him in business felt the 
secret power of his presence and gave him honor. His 
hands were generous to the poor. The helpless found 
in him a helper. Multitudes rise up to call him blessed. 

Elder Cleveland united with the Fourth Church by 
profession of his faith, February I, 1876. He served 
faithfully as trustee in 1878-79-82. He was elected 
to the eldership May 12, 1884, an d was ordained to 
the service on the 8th of the month of June following. 
A life of which these words are only briefest, leaves its 
sacred influence still with us. We tender to the fam- 
ily our sympathy in their deep loss, while at the same 
time we commend to them as to ourselves the worthy 
example of such a beautiful, patient, Christian life. 

D. O. Mears, Moderator. 
Samuel Anable. 

Jas. McKinney. 
A. S. Kibbee. 
Chauncey P. Wicks. 
John Rowland. 
Jas. Rodgers. 
Wm. N. Kennedy. 

E. A. Hobbs. 
Henry D. Enos. 



fredertch Cleveland 253 

The following letter was written by the pastor of 
the church, Rev. D. O. Mears, D.D., to Mrs. Cleveland 
in acknowledgment of her letter informing the Session 
of a legacy of $10,000, left the church in memory of 
their daughters Edith and Bertha Isabel Cleveland: 

Albany, N. Y., 

November 6, 1897. 

Dear Mrs. Cleveland: 

In behalf of the Session of the church as well as of 
myself I wish to express on paper our deep interest 
in the fact revealed in your kind letter; the munificent 
gift of our honored Elder Cleveland for a trust, whose 
object shall be forever annual gifts from its income to 
both our Home and Foreign Missions. Every condi- 
tion expected of the Session you may rest assured 
will be faithfully complied with. 

So thoughtful a provision on his part makes it a 
perpetual fact that, with the benefactions of the living 
toward the great vital organization having in view the 
welfare of men everywhere, his life will be felt. It is 
a most precious memorial of a beautiful spirit and life. 
Doubly sacred will be each portion derived from such 
consecration. 

Personally and as a Church, Elder Cleveland's pres- 
ence is greatly missed. It is a great comfort to see 
the members of his family Sabbath after Sabbath in 
the accustomed pew, yet in thought we never disassoci- 
ate you all from the active life and love of Mr. Cleve- 
land who loved the church with such devotion. "He 
being dead yet speaketh." 



254 JVLemofrs of 

Your family have revealed so tender an affection 
for the sufferer in his weakness, that each family in 
the congregation could not fail to have received the 
influence such devotion imparts, of wifely tender care 
and filial respect and honor. 

The children have done their part with yourself, 
unconsciously to yourselves, to reveal the power and 
beauty of his life that have evoked such a testimony. 
Be assured the whole church will take with tender 
trust the work suggested by himself. Meanwhile 
family and church will hallow the sacred meaning of 
Scripture so fully appreciated in his life. "The mem- 
ory of the just is blessed." 

In the crowding cares of busy days this answer has 
been delayed beyond what was my purpose, in order 
that in writing, even so short a reply, no cares of 
other things should disturb in the delightful privilege 
accorded me of presenting our appreciation, as a Ses- 
sion, of the honor conferred in appointing us almoners 
of such a gift. May this act of Elder Cleveland per- 
petually work out great good as did his life while with 
us. 

This communication represents the Session so far 
as words can express their deepest thought 

Affectionately yours, in the love of the Master, 

D. O. Mears, Pastor. 



frederick Cleveland 255 



EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS 

"I got word last night that your good husband had 
passed away. I am thinking of him as spending his 
first Sabbath in Heaven, and what a day it must be 
to him ! The next time you see him he will have a 
glorified body, and what joy it will be to you both! 
I am so thankful for the outlook. I am glad for the 
promise for a brighter day for us all. 

"And you will find much comfort in the thought 

that it may not be long before our Lord shall return 

and as Paul said to the Christians at Thessalonica, 

'For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, 

even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring 

with him.' I trust this thought will comfort all 

your family in this hour of your need. I thought 

last summer the stay of your husband was not long 

and I am quite sure he has gained by his translation, 

and would not come back if he could. I shall get to 

the funeral if I can, but if not you will know that you 

have my deepest sympathy. 

Your friend, 

„ , D. L. Moody." 

October j, 1897. 

Written to the oldest son by his pastor, J. McC. 
Holmes, D. D. 

"Not until to-day have I been able to express to 
you my sympathy in the loss of your excellent father, 



256 ]^emofre of 

Ever since I have known him I have been impressed 
with his sterling qualities. He always seemed to me 
a man who possessed strong convictions, and lived up 
to the full measure of what he believed. 

"Amid the infirmities of recent years he always ap- 
peared cheerful and acquiescent. And so I have held 
him up in highest esteem and regarded him as a man 
who walked with God. 

"To lose such a father is no ordinary loss, even when 
one arrives at man's estate and thinks and acts for him- 
self, he values a father's counsel and prizes a father's, 
interest. And I know that you feel that in the death 
of your father you lose an important factor in your 
life. But I know you are comforted by the thought 
that death to him was eternal gain. He was so pure, 
so true, so good, that for him to be absent from the 
body was to be present with the Lord. You think of 
him in that realm where 'the weary are at rest.' That 
God may comfort you and all yours is my earnest 

prayer * * * 

John McClellan Holmes, D.D." 

"I was surprised to learn through the New York 
papers of the death of your dear husband * * * 
I have recalled very often the sacred relations Mr. 
Cleveland sustained to my dear husband. How often 
did he speak of him as the man under God of his 
conversion. I often think of how many of the dear 
people of the Fourth Church who have gone home 



frederich Cleveland 257 

will be 'as stars in his crown of rejoicing/ How 
many consolations come to you, my dear friend, in 
this your hour of trial. And I am sure that the 
retrospect of your life will be full of pleasant mem- 
ories of your loving devotion, and watchful care of 
him. 

"With kind regards to your family and sympathy of 
one who has experienced the same great and bitter 

trial, I am, 

Sincerely yours, 

Ophelia W. Darling." 

(The wife of his beloved pastor and spiritual father, 

Rev. Henry Darling, D.D.) 

"My heart touches yours this day. In memory I 
go back to the days of your tender and constant minis- 
tration, and think of all the time and thought and 
strength and care! You will find all awaiting on the 
other side transformed into blessedness for you and 
he will be there to welcome you knowing and under- 
standing it all. O, the blessed time when we under- 
stand all ! 

"No one has reason to remember the dear one gone 

more than I, with many, many things. The beautiful 

souvenir which he thought of so timely and chose for 

me will have even a deeper value. What he always 

was to the Church even in his infirmities, who can 

measure, but only He who seeth in secret can estimate 

his share in the great work which is as a bulwork in 
17 



258 JVIemofrs of 

that part of the city! The life of a good man, what a 
beautiful thing and what a blessed inheritance * * * . 

Margaret M. Raymond." 

"Has the dear one really taken his flight to the 
better land? Has he really gone from his lovely 
home? Is his easy chair and his seat at the table to 
be vacant forever? Shall we see his pleasant smile 
and feel his cordial welcome no more on earth? Has 
he really bid farewell to his beloved companion who 
has so faithfully and carefully cared for and minis- 
tered to his comforts these many years, and the dear 
children so kind and true? Yes, 'tis even so, he has 
taken possession of his 'mansion' in Heaven; gone 
from earthly companionship to that of saints and 
angels, and above all to be with Jesus, 'whom not 
having seen he loved/ He now 'beholds the King 
in his beauty' and is made like him; the warfare 
ended has overcome through the blood of the Lamb 
and has entered upon that blessed life immortal, 
'Forever with the Lord.' I can hardly imagine the 
beautiful home without the dear invalid, and the meet- 
ing and the parting without his presence. But the 
meetings and the greetings with our loved ones 'over 
there' is near at hand. Dear sister, in the Lord, in 
all your loneliness I am sure you are sustained and 
comforted for 'Underneath are the Everlasting Arms.' 
This 'going home' will make heaven still more real 
and its light will dawn upon you here. You and 



frederfch Cleveland 259 

yours have our deepest love and sympathy in this 
time of sorrow and bereavement. 

Mary H. Bardwell. 
Minister's House, Perth Amboy." 



" When I read the notice in the paper you so kindly 
sent me of the dear sufferer passing away, I felt as it is 
expressed in Horatius Bonar's beautiful hymn, 'Newly 
Fallen Asleep.' I try to imagine Mr. Cleveland's joy 
the moment after death. What a change! What a 
surprise! ' Absent from the body, present with the 
Lord.' That is a beautiful tribute paid him by your 
church and so true and tenderly expressed, it must be 
pleasing to yourself and the children. We will all 
miss his patient, gentle face, if we are permitted to 
visit Northfield next year. I think he enjoyed the 
singing, and the very atmosphere of the place of 
prayer and praise. Very often after a friend passes 
away we regret that we had not done this or that, or 
that we had not done thus or so, but in your devotion 
and that of your children there can be none. A more 
devoted family I have never seen. Every thing that 
love and affection and money could do was freely 
given. What could we do without the dear Savior's 
sympathy and strong arm to lean upon. 

Jane A. Kippen, 

Fairfield, Conn." 



260 



yizmotve of 



The glimpse or two I had of Mr. Cleveland's life 
left an influence that will last throughout all time. 
He was so patient and loving and he is all the happier 
now for his long suffering. 

Austin R. Dodge." 



u< 



The weary body is at rest, the sweet spirit with 
the Lord he loved. How beautiful the expressed love 
and esteem of his brother elders — especially to your 
children it is comforting to know their fathers' mem- 
ory is so fondly cherished. ' Precious in the sight of 
the Lord is the death of his saints/ Mother sits near 
me and as I write repeats a part of an old and a 
favorite hymn, 

'How blest the righteous when he dies, 
When sinks the weary soul to rest/ 



a 



How empty handed we feel when dear ones are 
taken from us for whom we have cared so long, and 
how we do forget ourselves in their helplessness and 
the love and satisfaction in the strength given us for 
them — precious memories. How the dear old days 
in this dear old town come back to me with you and 
Fred, G. and S., and all the other dear old friends 
then here. Our family and Judge Clarke's are all who 
remain to recall those happy days. I would be glad 
could I minister to you and yours in any way, but I 
know that underneath you will ever be 'the Everlast- 
ing Arms.' 

Franc E. Barker. 

Waukegan, III" 



frederfch Cleveland 261 

"The severing of these closest of earthly ties is 
like the sundering of soul and body, and I long to 
clasp your hand in loving sympathy over your bereave- 
ment. I mourn the loss of a loved friend. The 
Cleveland family have been a part of my life for so 
many years it seems that I can scarce remember when 
I knew them not. I look back to the delightful visit 
I had with him last autumn, and am so glad that I 
had the opportunity of once again looking into his 
dear face and of listening to his loving words of wel- 
come. The dear, loving soul! How you will miss 
him. We can have no conception of his heavenly 
experiences. How few there are of the dear Wau- 
kegan circle left — one by one the dear ones are drop- 
ping out of our earthly lives and leaving us lonely. 
There were strong friendships formed in those Wau- 
kegan days that have stood the test of many years. 

Ann Seymour, 

Brooklyn." 

"In thought I have lived over again the delightful 
days I once spent in your then happy home, and 
from the knowledge I there and in daily business con- 
tact, acquired for the character of him who has been 
removed to the 'Better Country/ I can truly say that 
there has passed from earth to heaven a devoted hus- 
band, a loving father, a true friend, an upright, hon- 
orable business man and a kind and consistent 
Christian gentleman in the fullest sense these words 



262 



JVIemotrs of 



can convey. His devotion as a husband was, it seems 
to me, all that any wife could ask or desire, and I 
believe he fully realized that in return he possessed 
the love of the best of earth — one who stood by him 
loyally through such varying circumstances of life as 
it pleased the Heavenly Father to call him to go. He 
went to his reward in peace, surrounded by all the 
comforts that come from an abundance of means, and 
by the soothing influence of a truly Christian home. 
His love of home and family was remarkable. While 
he was attentive to business he was devoted to wife 
and little ones and home. I could, did time and 
space permit, refer to many incidents in his life illus- 
trative of any or all of these statements. 

'In the darkest dispensation 
Doth my faithful Lord appear, 

With his richest consolation 
To reanimate and cheer. 
Sweet affliction — 

Thus to bring my Saviour near/ 

F. A. Waterhouse, 

Peoria, 111." 



"A telegram from Mr. Kibbee announced to us all 
the release from earth's fetters of your dear husband. 
How beautiful it must be for him to look into the face 
of his Lord, and in fullness of health and strength 
and vigor to marvel at all the way the Lord has 
brought him. To some people under like circum- 
stances I would not offer sympathy but congratula- 



frederfch Cleveland 263 

tion, but I know that you and yours drew deepest 
blessings from his long illness and dependence; that 
his helplessness developed your strength far more 
than being able to depend on him would have done. 
And now that He has tried you and found you not 
wanting, He has taken him on a little while before, 
to give you a little rest, perchance some other service. 
When He comes we will wonder how we could ever 
have been 'in heaviness even through manifold temp- 
tations. ' You will miss the care you have had so long. 
It is beautiful to so love one's burden -that it is not a 
burden, and now it is as if he said, 'Dear child, I will 
carry it for you the rest of the way.' May your meet- 
ing with your dear husband and the babes be in the 
air. Last summer when I made my last call on Mrs. 
Abram Kirk, she was ill, and the dear old saint who 
had been just longing for years to cross over and be 
at rest, said, as she looked up into my face and 
grasped my hands, 'Mary, I believe I am going this 
time. Just think, / will see Him,' and her dear old 
face lighted up as if she already saw the glory. It 
was something more than a year before He took her, 
yet now doubtless the time seems very short. Heaven 
seems more beautiful for me now that she is waiting 
there, for I know she loved me. 

"And dear Mrs. Bentley, I am glad for her too. 
The happiest life she could have planned for herself 
would have been nothing compared with her life now. 
She never sang here as she will sing there. So I 



264 l^Ecmoire of 

rejoice with you in His joy and sorrow with you in 
your loss. May you have His constant presence, and 
having this you will have all things. 

Mary Niver Van Vliet, 

Oak Park, 111." 

"I have just read with interest the obituary of my 
dear brother Cleveland. I cannot say with sorrow as 
I think of him as he now is. He walks the street of 
the New Jerusalem to-day and is no longer wheeled 
about by man. His is a glorified body and not a 
painful, crippled one. Now he is with Him whom he 
so much loved, and sees not through a glass darkly. 
Think of him as living only, and only gone before for 
a little season; soon you will be reunited and together 
sing the song of redemption, saved by grace. A life 
such as his has been is worth living. I would rather 
have what is said in truth of him than hold the high- 
est office man can bestow, or to hold the wealth of 
nations in my hands. 'The righteous shall be in 
everlasting remembrance. ' 

B. C. Sayre, 

Matthews, Fla." 

"You will believe my sympathy none the less full 
and sincere because the expression of it has been 
delayed. Since last Saturday you have been almost 
constantly present in my very heart, and my love has 
held you close, knowing how deep has been your loss 



frederfch Cleveland 265 

and suffering. The loss has seemed to be my very 
own because it was so fully yours. Would that you 
might know how much nearer these hours have 
brought you to all our hearts. May your heart be 
mightily held up by Him. There is no possibility of 
short supplies with God. O, dear friend, my heart 
holds you up to the tender love of His great heart. 
'As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I com- 
fort you.' 

Eugenia Gibson/ ' 

"Into your deepest loneliness only those who have 
experienced a like sorrow can fully enter, but we can 
and do give you our loving sympathy, and our hearts 
are firm in the conviction that the Lord himself draws 
very near to you in these days, so that you can even 
rejoice in your sorrow, and I believe that even to you 
it is given now to hear the Master's words, 'Well 
done, good and faithful servant/ and that to you will 
be the comfort of entering, even here, into the joy of 
your Lord. What a beautiful farewell his was. All 
of victory and hope and eternal life. Death was 
robbed of its terror and its power. We could but 
think of the sweet home going of that dear patient 
spirit, and of the welcome awaiting him there. Do 
you not think that in some way there will be more 
than made up to him the years when he was such a 
prisoner of weakness? Some service may now be 
given him to do far exceeding anything he could 



266 f rederfch Cleveland 

have done here, or even have planned to do. And 
how he must rejoice in all freedom from limitation 
and increased power and enlarged vision. Yes, that 
is now for him — for you a few more years of sweet 
service here with greater power to comfort and help 
all in sorrow. We join in dearest love to you all — 
it always seems hard to leave a dear name out of our 
love messages and indeed why should we when the 
love is the same, and I am sure our love follows our 
dear brother Fred into all his new life. 

M. I. Cleveland, 

Brooklyn." 



The late Frederick Cleveland, founder 
of the famous baking- powder company, 
the story of whose success from small 
^beginnings, is one of Albany's busi- 
ness traditions, is the subject of a just 
published volume written by his wife, 
ami dedicated to his children. It is a 
loving- record of his life with a strong 
vein of religious sentiment tincturing 
the pages; and though the personal 
details of family and domestic interests 
will appeal only to the immediate circle 
of relatives and friends, for which it 
is written, the book contains beside 
many incidents of life and manners 
during' the last fifty years which are 
valuable to a wider public. 

Mr. Cleveland was born in 1838 in 
Vermont, of notable ancestry on his 
father's side, dating- back to Thorkil 
de Cleveland, of Cleveland, England, 
1066. On his mother's side he came 
of Holland Dutch stock. His grand- 
father, Michael Foeligh. was one of the 
famous old physicians of Albany county, 
of whom a pretty incident is told in 
regard to his courtship of Anna Whit- 
beck, later his wife: "One day as the 
young doctor was returning from 
one of his professional calls he 
had occasion to pass over the broad 
acres of the Whitbeck estate on the 
south side of the Mohawk Flats. Miss 
Whitbeck, spying him at a distance as 
he leisurely rode his horse over the 
country road, secreted herself in a 
thicket by the roadside, and as he drew 
near sprang up with the fearlessness 
of a highwaymen, caught the horse by 
the bridle and exclaimed, 'Sir, you are 
my prisoner!' With a smile the young 
doctor lifted his hat, and, bending 
toward his fair captor, replied: 
'Madame, I have been your prisoner 
for more than tvyo years.' And then 
came the story first told in Eden." 

Young Cleveland went to Yale col- 
lege in 1855, much against his Will, 
after a partial course at the Albany 
Academy, and later ran away from col- 
lege with a fellow student and went 
tramping through the south, returning 
to his home through the kind offices 
of a railway official. His marriage and 
essay in the business world followed. 
He first began the manufacture of bak- 
ing-powder in the west k Peoria, 111., 
but sold out and came to Albany where 
his greatest success was made. He 
took up his residence in Albany, April, 
1871. and began the manufacture of 
Cleveland's Superior Baking Powder in 
1874. taking m the firm his brother 
gjeorge, under the firm name of Cleve- 
land Brothers. The house which , he 
built as a residence when success came 
to him is still one of the handsome 
suburban mansions of the city. From 
the press of Brandow Printing Co., 
Albany. Sold by A. H. Clapp. 








/ MEMOIRS OF FBEDERIM CLEVELAND. 

A Beautlfnl Tribute to His Memory 
Written by Hts Wife. 

The "Memoirs of Frederick Cleve- 
land," written by his wife, which re- 
cently has come from the press , of the 
Brandow Printing Company of this city 
is a beautifully written tribute to the 
memory of one who was ,.ctive in ^Al- 
bany's business and social life, Who bore 
suffering with true Christian fortitude 
and whose homelike life and private 
character are held in high esteem by 
those who knew him. The book is per- 
meated with such a spirit of true wo- 
manly love and devotion that one cannot 
read it without being made to feel some- 
how that he i* treading upon holy 
ground. It is a revelation. 



. a. ...~><i i-*-r\vt 



'Madam, I have been your prisoner for 
more than two years/ and then came 
the story first told in Eden, but which 
has been repeated the centuries past, 
and will be repeated over and over 
again till time shall be no more." One 
may form a clear conception of the 
pretty descriptions in the book and of 
Mrs. Cleveland's entertaining- style ^y 
reading these few lines, taken from her 
description of the Freligh homestead: 
"The Freligh homestead stands on one 
of the hills overlooking the Mohawk 
river. From its wmdows there is a 
magnificent view of rolling meadows in 
the foreground, and of the blue hills of 
Rensselaer county over the Hudson 
river to the east. To the north purls 
the pelucid waters of the Mohawk river, 
with /its numerous islands nestling in 
its bosom; they are cultivated now to 
the water's edge, but only a few years 
ago they were thickly wooded. The tow- 
ering trees and flowers and ferns and 
shrubs are tangled to the very water's 
edge, and the stately feathery elms fes- 
tooned with the trailing wild grape vine 
are daintily mirrored in the waters. Tra- 
dition says that on one of these islands 
aptain *Kidd hid his famous pot of 
old. but no one has discovered its place 
f hiding and long ago the search was 
iven up." 

The story of Mr. Cleveland's life un- 
til he came to Albany to settle is told 
in a charming manner, but it is too long 
to tell here. On December 21, 1863, Mr. 
Cleveland was married to Gertrude M. 
Van Vranken in -the village church at 
"Niskayuna, N. Y. Here is Mrs. Cleve- 
land's description of the day and the 
ceremony: 

"It was a beautiful winter's day. The 
fields looked like a sea of glass. Every 
tree and shrub was covered with a glit- 
tering coat of ice which shone in the 
sunlight as burnished steel. It was a 
clear, crisp day and very cold. The 
ceremony occurred at 10 o'clock on 
Monday morning and the little church 
was packed." 

In March, 1871, Mr. and Mrs. Cleve- 

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tmoqs SU||9jqu,in J° >|00}S B ipns J9A8U shay aaaqj, 

'saoud ( sj8Jii^ 
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